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Completed Let's brew potions and harness the power of demons! Daemonica LP

Joined
May 10, 2011
Messages
1,059

In loving memory of CappenVarra
Poster, reader and BRO

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mobygames said:
Adventure, action and a bit of role playing blend in Daemonica, a murder mystery set in 14th century medieval England in the period following the infamous Black Death.

The majority of the game is "true" point-and-click adventure, with all the elements adventure gamers have become accustomed to, with only a small amount of action (in the form of sword fighting) controlled using the mouse and keyboard. The isometric "top down" view makes it look like a traditional role player.

Imagine a Diablo clone with almost no combat and great atmosphere.

It's linear as fuck, it's short as fuck, it has a misleading manual that seems to indicate that what went to market was, like, 20% of the intended storyline. Ranged attacks are mentioned in the manual, which never happens in the game. Combat is tedious, dialogue choices boil down to zero, plus you're forced to roleplay a dimwit. And there's multiple endings! Wowza! Which are decided in the last minute of the game, though. I checked two out of (I guess) three possibilities. Only the first paragraph changes in the fucking long-winded tale which is the reward for your plodding thru this epitome of mediocrity. Which figures.

1eyedking's List of Games Full of Tasteful Art Direction
...
However, some honorary mentions (games that got a couple of things somewhat right) are:
...
Daemonica
(play it if only for the music)

Hopefully dis gon b gud.

:avatard:

Part I: One dead, two missing


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Music is pretty good indeed.

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Backgrounds are also nice.

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Before starting the game let's learn about our character.

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Wall of text incoming!

For a very long time sleep brings me no calm. Once I have closed my eyes and terrible exhaustion makes me fall asleep, they approach. Countless numbers of deadly pale faces, eyes full of torment and mouths open to let loose a shriek that nobody can hear. Children as well as elders, women as well as men. All bound together within the realm of death, from which there is no way back. Every time they enter my dreams, my wounds reopen. The same awakening each time. An unknown room and a strange hostile town outside the window. Hot fresh blood leaking from the wounds on my palms, silence of the night, solitude. And so I sit in the dark waiting for a new day. A day in which I may have to go among them again. That is my mission. I am Nicholas Farepoynt, the Beast Hunter. I am Haresh al-Dorem, 'the one who speaks with the dead.'

I pursue the worst human monsters. I track and kill murderers of children, poisoners of town wells, arsonists who set fire to houses in which innocent families sleep in peace. Sometimes I accept invitations, sometimes I rush on my own to places from where rumors of such atrocities come. Seldom am I welcome and everyone is happy when my mission is over and I am off. I do not care, I am used to it. I do not need gratitude, friendship or understanding. I have seen the worst the world can offer. I know only rotten and worm-infested apples from the Garden of Eden. Clarice always claimed that despite all the poisons with which we blunt our minds, most Hunters commit suicide in the end. I've never doubted her words, even though she was an exception.

In fact I am also an outcast. People would hardly understand or approve of the methods I use in my mission. As I proceed, my cellars fill with the corpses of men I have interrogated. A single wrong step and I might find my end under the axe of an executioner or being burnt alive at the stake. And thus, every case becomes a race with time. Will I manage to find the murderer before my cellar gives out its testimony?

I have left several hunted beasts and a great deal of speculation and suspicions behind me. A freak who never takes off his hood or gloves, tattooed like an enemy of the Faith - a hero and saviour for some, a prolonged mauler of hell for the others. A sorcerer.

Why do I do this? I am not the saviour of the world. I do it because I know nothing else. And because I promised Clarice I would not stop until I had the strength. And that oath means more to me than anything in this world. I have nothing to lose here, but there she will ask me how successful I was. Perhaps I'm trying to escape my past, I do not know.

When I was young, I believed that pain purified. I believed that with blood I also cleansed myself of my sins, with every wound closer to forgiveness. I was wrong. So was a priest who desperately strived to make me a better man. Pain has not made me better. It has made me stronger. More intent. I recall the moment perfectly, the moment of vision. I tore the bloody whip out of Father Gregor's hands, broke it and threw it on the floor in front of him. I could never absolve myself of my sin. I was the sin.

I have not always been Nicholas Farepoynt. I was born in France in AD 1324 as John Mortimer. The birth was kept secret. My father was none other than Roger of Mortimer. The Mortimer that defeated the English King, Edward the second, had him imprisoned and then brutally and cruelly murdered. And all that with help of the King's own wife - his lover -- the unfaithful Isabella the French. My mother. They didn't enjoy the English throne for a long time. An adolescent son of the murdered English King, Edward III, took Mortimer's blood. Blood for blood. He had his mother Isabella imprisoned. England had an honorable king on its throne again. Only the bitter taste of betrayal and murder connected with the Mortimer name was left in its memory.

And so, a king's bastard who was forgotten by history immediately after his birth, grew up in distant France with the name of Farepoynt. Almost nobody knew my true origin, I was safe. Safe from the others, but not from my conscience. I was destined to stay in a monastery as a monk to live my life, which had been tarnished even before I was born, until I died there. It was at that time that I realized I would not be forgiven within the walls of a monastery. I joined the army of the English king. Thanks to my knowledge of language and environment I quickly became indispensable during the French campaign. Before that, I had only occasionally held a sword but I mastered it very quickly and very well. I killed enemies of England during the day and at night I prayed that destiny would allow me to wash away my original sin. Although I whispered, I was heard. As a reward for my merits I was assigned as a bodyguard to the king's son, known as The Black Prince. In the terrible battle of Crecy we were attacked twice, and each time succeeded in repulsing the foe. And then, on soil that could not hold any more blood, I, with my body, stood in the way of a blow that was meant for the Prince. For almost two weeks I was on the edge between life and death. But I survived, and repaid my debt to his family.

Still not quite recovered, I left for London. I do not know now what reception I expected there. The reality was terrible. The city had been decimated by the Black Death. Under a merciful blanket of snow, there were heaps of blackened bodies. Nobody was left to bury them. People were dying everywhere: on church pews, by dinner tables, in dirty holes as well as in noble houses. The Pope granted remission of sins to all who died here, since there was nobody left who could give them absolution. All around, it was the end of the world. However, I was not afraid of death. I had repaid my debts to God and was prepared to die. What sense would there be in living on? With gloomy thoughts I entered a small wooden church near a refuge at Charing Cross to await my destiny. But I was wrong. My destiny was waiting there for me. A destiny called Clarice.

I found her more dead than alive. Her deep green eyes were slowly fading. Even then, close to death, she was beautiful. I remember carrying her in my arms along a silent path where wild dogs were fighting for dead bodies. From windows one could hear the crying of abandoned children and the muttering of prayers of those who still believed in their salvation. The whole world had gone mad, but there was something in her that soothed me. She represented order when everything around was turning to dust.

She was delirious for five days and nights, tossing wildly on the bed and at times crying out strange sounding words, upon which windows flew wide open, candles went out and at one point a large mirror on the wall cracked. When I pulled off her delicate leather gloves, I found unhealed stab wounds in her palms that were gently bleeding. I was not blind and so soon realized that I had brought home a witch.

Not a witch, a Beast Hunter. This is how she introduced herself when she finally came round. Of course, I had heard of them, but I believed them to be more of a legend, an old wives' tale. Hunters chased the worst criminals, serial killers. They found and liquidated the culprit almost every time but people said that strange things happened around them. Now I believed it.

Were we destined to meet? Then, for the first time I had a strange feeling. The feeling of a puppet that, looking at its hands, sees the threads controlling them. An odd feeling that the puppeteer had some strange plans for me. Clarice was a brilliant swordswoman, and several times she stood on the very brink of her capabilities. I, a soldier of fortune, had nowhere to go, my life was empty and meaningless. And so I became a Hunter at her side.

I soon realized how cold-hearted Clarice was. Hunters prepare their own potions from herbs that are usually poisonous. The potions can then heal or heighten the senses, but they can also kill. They have one thing in common. For everything they give, they take something away. They blunt the emotions and Clarice was a good example of this. She smiled no more than twice during the time I spent with her. Horrible scenes that made me almost vomit had no impact on her. She never wept, never got angry. Her indifference was disturbing, and the fact that the same fate awaited me was even more disturbing.

When the hallucinations hit me for the first time, I was completely unprepared. The world before me blurred and a sharp wave of heat filled my body. Then, all of a sudden, I heard voices. Screaming, pleadings, prayers, quarrels. None of it made any sense. It lasted only a moment, then all was as before. I had no clue as to how it had happened. Clarice listened, seriously as usual. She had never experienced this, but it had happened once to a Hunter she was wandering with. It usually happens in places where somebody had perished or something similar had happened. The voices could come any moment but often they lacked any sense - just snatches of conversations from different periods of time. It was most probably caused by those poisons Clarice was giving me, but even she was surprised by the intensity of the experience I had had.

After several weeks, she let me in on the Hunters' greatest secret -- the Daemonica. This is the language of demons, the language that the oldest of them used to create the world. At that time, simply whispering its words they caused mountains to grow and stars to shine. Rivers began to flow and trees were clothed in leaves. Birds were given voice and beasts their claws. The sun penetrated an eternal night; it lit up the earth for the first time and slowly set off on its journey across the sky. All the languages people have ever spoken throughout history have originated from the Daemonica itself. The language may have been our heritage, a sign of our creation. Whatever it was, the Daemonica is dead for us today. Only fragments of words have prevailed. Hunters have passed on these fragments of the language to each other, and with their help they can reach the borderland between the realms of life and death and communicate with the souls of the murdered.

When she told me how everything actually worked I refused to believe her. The whole world took on a new face. A face I had never seen before, and which was by no means pleasant.

First of all, it is necessary to prepare a potion from strange herbs. This potion is known among Hunters as Soulgreep. Then it is necessary to stay alone in a safe place with a body of the dead. The Hunter drinks the potion and shortly afterwards begins to die. At this moment, invisible Dahn-en-nyan, a demon -- bearer, is waiting for him and embraces him with its grey wings. At the moment of his death it tears the Hunter's soul out of his body and carries it to the realm of oblivion. However, the Hunter must order the demon to carry the soul only to the Temple of Sacrifices, a strange place lying between the worlds of the living and the dead. If he cannot manage it, he dies. Death, is the price a Hunter pays for most of his mistakes!

In the Temple he must determine which soul he is actually seeking, and then carries out the sacrifice. He sacrifices himself. That is where those wounds on the palms that never heal come from. The stigmata of the Hunters. If everything goes well, a demon seeks out and brings the soul. The soul is willing to communicate because it feels the presence of its dead body near the Hunter. Seldom is he so lucky that the dead can clearly identify the murderer. More often he obtains just fragments of memory without much sense, with which he returns. Weak and bleeding.

What can go wrong? Everything.

Clarice only seldom spoke of the Hunter she had been with before. He was the one who had taught her everything she knew, though her first attempts to master the Daemonica were quite poor and almost killed her. She respected him, but it seemed that she had some unresolved troubles with him. Every time she talked about how he had thrown himself from the cliffs of Dover, a certain expression of satisfaction flew over her face. Since she never lied to me, I believed that his departure was self-imposed. I have never doubted though, that to a certain extent she was the reason for his death. Together we solved two cases. And then, the third one came.

The body of twelve-year-old John Grystok was found at the end of August 1349 not far from the church of St. Helen. With his fifth victim, the Butcher of York had sent a clear message: I am back and I am not going to stop.

John's memories of the moment of his death were faint and Clarice and I had no time to spare. The smell of more blood was in the air. Clarice went to the Temple and I waited. It took her quite a long time but she finally found it. A tiny detail stuck in the darkest depths of the dead boy's memory. A detail that led us to the shop of the inconspicuous Thomas Poulse. And then Clarice made the mistake that cost her her life.

Her death was quick, however, and in an instant Dahn-en-nyan carried her on its grey wings away from our world. Now Mr. Poulse was a different story. The injuries that she had managed to inflict on him were not so serious. I had plenty of time to make his last hours very unpleasant ones.

A few months later an envoy from Cavorn stopped me on my journey. The letter he gave me was addressed to the 'Beast Hunter, honorable Mr. Nicholas Farepoynt'. And so it all began.

tl;dr Nicholas Farepoynt is a Beast Hunter that can speak with the dead via special potion. Also demons.

Now we're all set!

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The game starts with a monologue. We'll see quite a few of those.

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Diane, after a few miles the landscape had changed beyond recognition. The sky was overcast with heavily laden clouds from which, every now and then, blinding claws of lightning roared and sank somewhere into the depths of the forest. During those brief flashes of light, twisted branches of trees were visible in the mist and stretched towards me like hands of the dead. The rain was surprisingly cold and its drops left a bitter flavor on my tongue. I pulled my hood lower down my forehead and quickened my pace. The prey never comes to the hunter on its own, the hunter must chase it. Anywhere. After a while the mist suddenly parted and I saw the contours of wooden walls, behind which my target was hiding. Then the silhouette of a church appeared in the mist. Through the trees to the west I could see the entrance to the mines. I had arrived. Before approaching the gates of Cavorn, I pulled the letter from my pocket that had led me to this place and read it again. Then I made it for the town gate.

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Seems reasonable. Let's read that letter.

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Dear Mr. Farepoynt,

Firstly, please accept my greetings and let me pay
tribute to you. I am addressing you as the Mayor of a small
town that desperately needs your help. I have learnt from my
friends in York of your successful investigation there.
The fact that you have not received the thanks that you fully
deserved for your service is extremely reprehensible. I myself
am fully aware of how many innocent lives you helped spare,
Mr. Farepoynt. For this reason, I believe that you are fully
capable of solving the unpleasant situation that has afflicted
our unfortunate town.

Several days ago, two of our newest citizens, aged Angus
Greer and his wife, disappeared. A short while later, we found
some blood-soaked and torn pieces of their clothing at the edge
of a swamp beyond the town. Despite not having found their
bodies, it is beyond any doubt that a formidable crime has been
committed in our town.

I am sure you are aware of how difficult a time it is. In
spite of the fact that we have succeeded in ridding our district
of the Black Death, its horrible presence has left a state of
joyless havoc.

An unresolved double murder is the last thing I need in
my town at this moment. One can feel the fear among the
citizens as it increases day by day. I dare not even think
about the possibility that the old couple are not the last
of the victims!

Therefore I beseech you, sir, to come to us and take charge
of the investigation of this case yourself. I can assure you
that my own gratitude and that of the local people
will be far beyond the usual limits.


Yours sincerely,

Philip Saintjohn
Mayor of Cavorn

In addition to this letter we also have a dagger (that looks more like a sword to me), bag with herbs and a potion preparation set. Oh, and let's not forget about the diary.

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It contains all sorts of useful information.

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The Greers

The vanishing of the old couple brought me here. A blood soaked piece of their clothing was found beyond the town and one could therefore expect that they are dead. But where are their bodies?

A few entries about alchemy:

Preparation of potions

A Hunter can prepare various potions that improve and strengthen his abilities, influence other persons or are useful in other ways. However, to be able to make any potion, two conditions must be met. The Hunter must place his potion preparation set somewhere, preferably in a publicly inaccessible place. Obviously, he also must have collected enough herbs required for the preparation of the potion. Then he can use the set and try to make the required potion.

We'll read the other entries later though.

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We'll need a lot of herbs for our potions.

Bloodstone Weed herb

Bloodstone weed obtained its name due to its red violet color. It is probably the most common of the herbs used by Hunters. It grows practically everywhere.

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We could go east, to the mines, but there is nothing to do there right now.

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Why so much hostility towards a simple wanderer?
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You may call it hostility, I call it caution. Are you blind? Haven't you noticed the times in which you have come? That bitch, the Black Death, is going to choke us all to death, one by one. All accursed England! And you wonder why I don't let you through the town gate? Have you ever noticed what place you've come to visit? I haven't seen the sun for weeks, everything around fades away and vanishes before one's eyes. Even the wind won't blow this stuffy air away. What kind of a common wanderer are you? Yes, I can see the marks on your skin, Hooded man. They must have been branded by the devil himself! Whether you're infected or not, I am not going to be the one to let you into the town.
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You shall let me in! I've been invited by mayor Saintjohn.
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What? You've been invited by the mayor? And what, if I may ask, would the mayor want from someone like you? I know the mayor hasn't invited you, and what's more, I know who you are. You're one of the brigands causing trouble around the neighborhood. You're not going to kill any more, though. You're life is about to end right here!

Here we could've clashed with the guard, but combat is by far the worst part of the game, so diplomacy it is.

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Hold on! I've been invited by mayor Saintjohn.
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Then show me! Hmm, indeed, I recognize the mayor's signature. What accursed times we live in when we invite reprobates into our homes! Wait here, I'd better check. But I want you to know I don't believe you and if the mayor really does let you into the town, I'll be watching you. Every damned step of yours!
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Do what you want, just go now. I don't have time to chatter.
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Diane, the gatekeeper disappeared inside and I was left in front of the gate. To be honest, I didn't expect a warm welcome and I didn't get one. In a way I understood it. Who could welcome a hooded freak tattooed like a Saracen? But I had become accustomed to this. Friendship and hospitality, these were luxuries that would only present obstacles to me. Cutting out the bad I sometimes unwittingly cut deeper than would be healthy but as long as everyone was a stranger to me, there was no need to care. After a short while, Mayor Saintjohn himself arrived. The bald, fat man welcomed me into the town but from his sideways glances it was evident he was not sure that my invitation had not be a big mistake.

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No, but I think I could handle them.
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Excellent! Many important things have taken place since I wrote you that letter. I'll inform you, but I'd rather not here. I'll show you the house I have had prepared for you, if you please. It's approximately of the same size as the one you stayed in during your last case in York, including a cellar. I think you'll be fully satisfied with it.
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I am glad to hear that.
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If you will follow me, I'll take you there. Before that, however, there's one thing I should tell you. Until I have met with the locals and informed them of your arrival, most of them probably won't be willing to speak with you, or, in the worst case, they might even be hostile. Every stranger in our town is under suspicion these days. So I'd rather warn you in advance. It would be better if you came with me now, but if you want to see the town right away, I'll wait for you by your new house. I'm sure you'll find it.
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I'll bear that in mind. Let's go.

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There is no reason to explore the village now, so we'll just fast-travel to our new home.

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Cozy.

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Do you have the skin somewhere here?
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I beg you pardon? I don't think I heard you properly.
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Her skin, have you found it somewhere around?
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Why are you, for God's sake, interested in such a disgusting detail? I don't know what happened to the skin. It was probably burnt with the girl. You could try asking Doctor Baker.
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Who found her?
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Actually, we were all gathered around there. I can't remember how. Wait a minute, someone came and said he'd heard a woman screaming in the undertaker's but I can't remember who it was ... no, I really can't remember.
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Hmm, interesting. Go on, please.
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Interesting? You find it interesting? Well, maybe because you're not the local mayor. Do you understand what such a crime causes among the people? Disturbances, the last thing we need now. You may be used to seeing such things but we are not used to such atrocities here! This has been a slow and quiet place. Calm, Mr. Farepoynt, not skinned corpses!
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It's maybe too quiet here. Deadly quiet.
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Deadly quiet? Well, it's true that it's not too busy here. Most of the locals have moved away over the last ten years. No wonder, recent harvests have been disastrous. Just darkness everywhere - the sun doesn't come out from behind the clouds any more, and our crops have some strange mould. Of course, someone immediately appeared here and started to shout out about God's punishment, a curse and other nonsense. Moving away solves nothing. I'd say we are not the only ones who've been going through such hard times these days.
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Go on, please.
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So, as I said, it was absolutely abominable. But, and this will surprise you, Mr. Nicholas - if I may so call you, we have already caught the murderer. Fancy that, it was none other than her fiance the young undertaker Duncombe! After all, one could have expected it, when we found her in his house lying in his bed, right? Moreover, we found him right next to the bed with blood on his hands. Is it clear? That's why I managed to solve the case so quickly. We obviously put him in chains immediately and, since it was all absolutely clear, we hanged him the very next morning.
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That Duncombe ... did he confess?
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Mr. Nicholas, you are not listening, are you? We found him by her, blood all over his body. She was in his house, in his bed. I'd say it makes sense, doesn't it?
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Once again, then. Did he confess?
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No, he didn't confess. But in any case, he couldn't. He was totally insane when we found him. He was just staring at the blood on his hands muttering something impossible to comprehend. No one was able to get a word out of him. Well, it's a pity because I know he would have pleaded guilty to the Greers' murder as well. He must have had something to do with that one too. This is how I think it happened - young Duncombe was probably mad but he'd managed to hide it for a long time. Then, behind the town, he came across the old married couple I wrote you about, and killed them both. Then he concealed the bodies somewhere. That's not all, though. He'd found pleasure in killing and as a result his madness began to take over him, more and more. Then it struck him while he was with his fiance and you know the rest. Honestly, I am pretty sure it happened something like this.
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It doesn't sound so simple to me...
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What the hell don't you like about it? One would assume that you, Mr. Nicholas, a man who is so often in touch with such things, would appreciate how smoothly and quickly I'd solved the matter! I don't want to offend you but I don't think you've ever solved a case so quickly, am I wrong?
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No, indeed not. What do you want from me, then?
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It is certainly unfortunate that you had to come so far only to find everything already solved, but we still need you here. Originally, I invited you to investigate the disappearance of old Greer and his wife. It's now obvious that Duncombe was involved. It would be nice though if you uncovered some evidence to prove it beyond all doubt. That would shut the mouths of those who doubt me. You could, for example, find the bodies with some of his possessions nearby! To prove the connection. That shouldn't be a big problem now that we've made it so easy for you, should it?
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Yes, by the ill-considered execution of the main suspect.
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The word 'suspect' is quite misleading and unfortunate in this matter. It could suggest we were wrong in our verdict, and that is obviously nonsense. His crime has been fully proven. I admit, though, that such a quick and decisive execution of the young man wasn't absolutely necessary. On the other hand, I must say we'd hardly have been able to get a reasonable word out of his mad mind, let alone a confession.
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I'll take charge of it since I'm here now.
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I am glad to hear it. However, I'd like to ask you to proceed in your investigation in the manner I have outlined for you. If you want to see the young man's body, it's still at the place of his execution. Upon the wish of her relatives, Eleanor was burnt on a pyre under the monastery, so there is nothing to see there any more. But she was examined by Doctor Baker, he can tell you everything. But take his words with a pinch of salt, he sometimes tells porkies and speaks ill of others. I'll go now and announce your arrival to the locals. I'm also going to tell them to assist you as much as possible. I guess you'll find out for yourself that my words carry a lot of weight here.
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I'm glad to hear it, any help is welcome.
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And one more thing, I have heard certain rumors about your activities in York...
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Rumors? What are you talking about?
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Well, your methods of investigation are said to be quite, let's say ... unorthodox. People say you even use some strange potions. Personally, I don't care. But some of the local people are rather curious, they could cause some trouble. I know you used to lock your house in York, but here such a thing is not so common and I haven't yet managed to get you a lock. Try asking the blacksmith but beware, he can be rather churlish. Well, good luck and, if you need anything, you can find me in my house or at the inn.
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Good, if I find out anything, I'll keep you informed.

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Diane, the door closed behind the Mayor and I was alone in my new house. I wasn't happy about the development of the situation. It wasn't hard to size him up. He was a weakling and coward and his hasty decision to hang the young undertaker Duncombe proved just that. He saw my task very clearly -- to prove he hadn't been wrong with the sentence and preferably to even put the blame for the disappearance of the Greers on Duncombe. Only too often I'd witnessed such quick executions when, just after detecting the real culprit, the sentenced murderers were transformed into innocent victims. There should always be plenty of time before the noose or sword. I doubted Duncombe had killed his lover and the old married couple. It was just a feeling, but my intuition has proven right too often just to brazen it out. Where was I to start? I should really survey the cellar and then start searching for traces and finding facts in the town. Eleanor's body was burnt to ashes on a pyre. There was nothing I could do about her. The undertaker was a different case, however. If I managed to get him down from the gallows to my cellar, find the necessary herbs to prepare Soulgreep, I could get some useful information from him. It's not that I was looking forward to the conversation. A dead man who is also a madman is not the ideal partner for a conversation.
 

Baron Dupek

Arcane
Joined
Jul 23, 2013
Messages
1,870,765
As an ex-moonshrine brewer i would watch it.
What happened with CV anyway?

EDIT
Wall of texts huh? Inquisitor also have one but does it have better combat?
 
Joined
May 10, 2011
Messages
1,059
What happened with CV anyway?
Man, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. And I'm not even talking about the sex... The food & talk, the near-death potential-holocaust-averted fire experience, the crazy mix of 1s and 20s rolled, the stealthy clean up... Nevermind, I'll just drink myself to sleep again.

And no posts since that month.

:hmmm:

Wall of texts huh? Inquisitor also have one but does it have better combat?
Uhh, haven't played Inquisitor, but here combat is a minigame where you hold space to block and double click to attack. And there are like ten fights in the game. Is it better?
 
Last edited:
Joined
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Messages
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Part II: Voices from beyond the grave

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Before doing anything else, let's check our cellar.

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Diane, the cellar of my new house was more than suitable. The Mayor couldn't have anticipated what it would be used for but he had nevertheless chosen well. The worst his fear-fuelled imagination could come up with was the vision of diabolic potions that could be prepared there. He was not wrong on this point. A large, solid table was the ideal place for me to lay out my kit for preparing such potions. The massive timbers would serve me well for hanging dead bodies and for fastening my hands for the moment when a demon starts to tear the soul out of my cooling body. What a sweet home for me and my future silent companions...

Disturbing, yet strangely arousing.

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Now that brewing equipment is installed, let's consult the diary to determine our exact course of action.

Entering the Temple of Sacrifice

To be able to talk to the victim of a violent death, the Hunter must first obtain the body. Having placed it in a safe place where nobody can disturb him, the Hunter must procure the required herbs and make the Soulgreep potion. After he has drunk it, the ritual of entering the Temple begins. It is necessary to bear in mind that it is not advisable to enter the Temple until the Hunter knows all the information necessary to identify the victim. If he identifies the victim incorrectly, a bewildered demon can kill him. It is only possible to speak with each victim once. Calling up the soul of a dead person for a second time is too dangerous.

More information about the potion:

Potion Soulgreep

Soulgreep is probably the most important potion of all that a Hunter knows and uses. When drunk, it causes the slow death of the human body. Thanks to this, a demon - bearer comes to the Hunter, who orders the demon to carry him to the Temple of Sacrifice. After his return, the demon returns the soul to the body, which must not have gone completely cold. In order for the potion to be useful, the Hunter must be near the body of the willful killing or murder victim whom he wishes to contact in the Temple. If he is successful, he cannot try to contact the same victim for a second time, since the demons are very irritable and a repeated request could make them furious. It is also inevitable that the Hunter hides himself in a place where other people cannot get to him during his stay in the Temple. His body is absolutely defenseless at this time, and the phenomena that accompany his leaving this world and his return are usually not considered normal among ordinary mortals - the same applies to the dead bodies placed in the room around the Hunter. For this reason Hunters usually conduct this ritual in locked cellars or in deep caves.

Composition:
2x Gwynlock
2x Watersleep
1x Devil's Luck
2x Tear of Stone

Right, so we need a bunch of herbs and a dead body. Let's get rolling.

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Not far from our house we met this fellow.

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Tell me something about yourself.
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Well, my name is Cobb and as you have probably understood, I am the local blacksmith. Do you need to know anything else?
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How long have you lived here?
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I was born here and have always lived here, except for five years when I was fighting as a soldier of fortune. I will be buried here as well.
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Why haven't you left the town like the others?
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Well, it is true that the majority of the people have left over the last ten years. Harvests have been getting worse and worse each year, we haven't seen the sun for God knows how long, and animals keep catching strange diseases. I myself wanted to leave, it was about five years or so ago. But then Mary died so there was no point in moving anywhere else. I would only have moved away because of her anyway. Poor Mary.
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What happened to her?
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Well, I don't know. She just began to feel bad. The doctor tried hard, even the old witch gave her some herbs, but she was gone by the summer. We had no children, so at least they couldn't miss their mother, right? Then, I began to take care of Roger - when his parents died. I had been training him here in my workshop before this terrible thing happened.
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I'd like to learn something about the local people.
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Well, not many of us have stayed in the center. You must have already met the mayor - after all, he's the one who brought you here, so you two must be friends. But I'll tell you one thing, and you can pass it on to him, I don't care. The mayor is the biggest bastard on God's earth. He hanged that poor boy and didn't care if he had done it or not. Listen to me carefully ... if he gives me the slightest motive, he'll be a dead man and I won't care what happens next. I have nothing more to lose.
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Fine, I get the idea.
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Then, his young wife Helen came here. She's a nice girl and it's a great pity she has to be with such a bastard. Fortunately, he must leave her alone in bed - cause she's much too old for him, if know what I mean. He's a bastard and pervert. I've seen nothing but I can hear what people say.
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And what do they say?
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Well, there've been rumors that the mayor likes to sleep around. The doctor is a good man, even though he's changed a lot during the last year. He used to be a happy man but now he's very quiet, it seems to me he's afraid of something. Well, he's not the only one here. He can fix you a broken bone but if you need to have a disease healed, it's better to go to the herbalist. Old Maud is half mad but has helped many people here. That's what doctor Baker is not very happy about. People say she can also harm you but she saved my wife from a lot of pain, I can't say anything bad about her. You'll probably meet Simon by the river, he's my wife's brother. He came here when she was ill, and then stayed here. Though I think he's about to leave. Who else do we have? Yes, the Harrels. Harrel is a real nutcase, beware of him. He's always hearing voices and is obsessed with money even though he doesn't have any. He would do anything for money. It's hell for his wife, 'cause he's either drunk as a lord or twittering on about money.
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Anyone else?
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Guards have been patrolling the streets. The mayor brought them in after those disappearances. They are good and fair men, even though they are angry to have ended up here. They sometimes come here for a chat. Well, and then we have the monks. They live in the monastery above the town and are quite strange folk. They used to behave like any other Benedictines but now they've become real sectarians. They don't even wear black habits anymore, they wear grey ones! They let nobody in, occasionally one of them appears in the town to tout. The doctor is said to have been there a few times but nobody else knows anything about them. They live only for themselves, I doubt they'd even give you unction. Well, I must have forgotten somebody but you'll certainly bump into the others around town.
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What do you think about the murders?
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Well, firstly, you'd better watch your tongue, because I only know about one. The bodies of Greer and his wife have never been found. Who knows if they didn't just silently vanish from the town in the same way they'd appeared and leave some blood-soaked scraps of clothing so that we had something to think about. Secondly, I don't know if you're really interested in what I tell you. You are convinced that the undertaker did it anyway. Poor Roger's even blamed for a bad harvest, ill animals and many other things. Isn't that what people will start to say? But I know one thing beyond any doubt. The biggest danger doesn't lurk somewhere in the bushes, no, the biggest danger is that yellow-bellied mayor, who's able to hang a poor innocent man just so he can sleep in peace and not have to explain his damned inability to find the one who really did it. He's the biggest damned danger in this town!
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So you believe Duncombe didn't do it?
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How can you even ask? Of course he didn't do it! He and Eleanor were about to marry and leave right away. I was even training him to be a blacksmith, so he could find work more easily. That execution was a regular crime. Take my words - it will cause blood to be spilled again. Such a young life wasted. In September he would have been only nineteen!
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September you say? Updated my journal... In other news, I need a lock for my door.
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Yes, the mayor mentioned it. I have one here but I use it myself now. I used to have a normal lock, but unfortunately for you I lost the key, so I use this one instead.
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And if I found the key?
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I'd happily give you this one if you could find it. But it's not going to be so easy, you know. I lost it somewhere by the lakes next to the swamp, maybe it sank into one of them. And if you find it there, you're more likely to drown than get it out. Well, try it if you like. I shan't shed any tears on your grave.
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Why so much hostility? You don't even know me.
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You ask why? You come to investigate a murder after somebody's been hanged for it. You're not going to investigate anything! I know why you're here. The mayor is scared that he's made a mistake and you're going to sniff around until you confirm he was right and nobody can say anything more about it. The fact that there was no trial and that he was hanged right away will just be forgotten. So, just do what you've been paid for so we can soon live in peace again.
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Perhaps you've misunderstood me...
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Really? You'd have to persuade me you're not a puppet, wouldn't you? I'll be happy to wait.

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It occurred to me that before starting an investigation perhaps we should visit the scene of a crime, so that's where we are heading.
:M

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Undertaker's house is located to the north-east of the village, near the monastery.

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Watersleep herb

Watersleep, as the name suggests, grows in the vicinity of rivers and lakes. According to legend, it grows in places where someone drowned. It is an ingredient of many potions with healing effects.

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Found a funeral pyre on our way to the crime scene.

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Monastery gate is currently closed.

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Tear of Stone herb

The white blossoms of Tear of Stone, also called Stoneheart, can be found near rocks. The herb grows best in gravely soil.

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This is the place we are looking for.

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Diane, the undertaker's house looked more or less like I had imagined it. Unfinished stone crosses, a coffin, simple furnishing. But added to that, stains of dry human blood all over the floor and a blanket lying next to a simple bed. Something was wrong here. I'm not speaking about the blood, I have seen too many similar scenes, but here even the main thing - the victim - was missing. A more interesting thing was that I didn't feel anything here. In such places I usually had an unpleasant stinging feeling as if my wounds were beginning to open. But nothing of the kind here.

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Might prove useful someday.

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Same here.

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You never know when an empty bucket might come in handy.

Alright, we're done here.

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Graveyard is pretty much what you might expect it to be. Nothing for us to do here now.

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Mayor.

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And his wife.

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Some random guy.

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We can see the monks in the distance, but no way to reach them.

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Going back to the village. On our way back we'll be passing near the swampy area, so might as well gather herbs for the potion.

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We were doing just that, when suddenly...

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Diane, I was surprised myself when I saw the glittering of metal through the muddy water of the lake. It was surely the blacksmith's key. I tried to reach it, but as soon as I approached the water, the soil under my feet started to give way and pull me into the deep. I was lucky to get out of this hidden and lethal trap. I needed the key, no doubt, but I refused to die in the swamp for its sake. It was obvious that I required some appropriate equipment to draw it out.

Empty bucket doesn't cut it, so we'll get to it later.

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Gwynlock herb

This strangely named herb has a repulsive odor. Its yellowed blossoms can be found only in swamps and marshes. It retains its unpleasant odor even long after being dried, however, it is an important ingredient of stronger potions.

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Looks like we're not the only ones interested in herbs.

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Expected? Do you know about me from the mayor?
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The herbalist saw you coming in her dreams and warned me against you. Talk to her, please. It is important that you discover your destiny.
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Will do, but right now I'd like to learn something more personal about you.
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My name is Helen and I am the wife of mayor Saintjohn. I moved here to be with him. My family used to live here a long, long time ago, my roots are here. I feel at home here and I try to fulfill all the duties that arise from my role as the mayor's wife.
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Why is there bitterness in your voice?
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Forgive me, sir, but you cannot understand it. I grew up in blooming scented gardens full of sun. Music was heard in our house for days on end. And now I am here. Darkness instead of sunshine, rotten leaves instead of flowers. Weeping instead of music and worried faces of villagers all around. The plague spreading and feeding on everything. But you know it best, sir.
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Why don't you return to your family?
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I could, my husband wouldn't mind ... if he ever noticed, but I have decided to stay. I gave him my marriage vows and I intend to honor them.
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When the world around has turned mad ...
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... then promises are easily broken. Yes, I know that. But the world has not turned mad enough yet to force me to break this promise. I shall stay here with him, my place is here. I have the strange feeling that I belong here, that I have to be here because ... because I simply have to. Like an actor without whom a performance can't end.
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I am interested in the locals.
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You have already met my husband. He is - he's my husband before God and law and that is the most important thing. You probably haven't yet met my maid, Emma. She's more of a friend to me. My husband can't stand her but I wouldn't be able to stand it here without her. She's part of the pure world that I brought here from beyond the mist. I often go to the herbalist even though the mayor doesn't like it. It's sometimes not easy to understand her, but her view of the world is so different! I have the feeling that she's been trying to tell me something all the time but I am not able to listen. Sometimes Mrs. Harrel pops in here. Her husband has made her life hell, so I at least try to make her leisure time pleasant. Doctor Baker is a very clever man but he has changed greatly in past months. Eleanor used to come to us often before that horrible thing happened. She was a very nice and energetic girl, her death was terrible news for us. Sometimes, young John Limsey comes to pay compliments to me but he's churlish and his behavior is unacceptable. I don't meet others from the town very often. As you have probably noticed, the guards also keep me company, my husband wouldn't allow me go to anywhere without them.
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I assume you don't know anything about the murders...
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I wasn't really in touch with the Greers, like most of the local citizens. That's why I don't know much about them. But as far as the murder is concerned - I don't think Roger Duncombe did it. I knew him and Eleanor and I know how much they loved each other. Roger didn't kill her, about that I am sure. My husband made a very big mistake when he had him hanged. Maybe he suspects he was wrong and so he's been sending these guards everywhere with me. The idea, or rather the certainty, that the murderer is still somewhere around here scares me a lot.
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Don't worry. I'll catch him.

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:hmmm:

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Devil's Luck herb

The origin of the name of this herb is unknown. It can grow almost anywhere. Despite this fact it is rarely found, because it usually dies before it produces its first blossoms.

We've got all the ingredients needed for the potion, but since we're near the herbalist's house, let's go in and say hi.

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My arrival? But how could you?
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Darkness spreads around everywhere and a putrid ulcer seizes every clean thing. Its blood is black and its breath kills. But there was still hope until the envoy came through the town gate. In his blindness, he will be the doom of us all. Yes, I saw your arrival in my dreams. Yet, I can't protect you against your destiny. The circle has closed and there's no way back. For any of us.
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Me? You are not talking about me, woman.
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I'm not feeling the evil in you, but fate will set in anyway and you will be its instrument. Oh yes, I saw you coming through the mist. A Hooded Man that commits the irredeemable. But I don't blame you. You have not chosen your path, and what is to happen shall happen.
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Please, tell me more :roll:
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I can see strange things around you, Hooded Man. I sense the looks of many dead eyes behind you. Why?
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I am Haresh-al Dorem.
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The one who speaks to the dead? I have heard of you. You have an immense gift. But you are an envoy of darkness. And who's the shadow by your right hand, Hooded Man? Who's the dead woman?
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What? That can't be possible! Clarice?
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I don't know. It's just a blurred shadow. Someone very close to you who has already left you. Have you ever tried to contact her?
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That's none of your business.
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I can't help you fight your destiny, Hooded man. But I can try to help you face it and understand it. You can go, if you want. I know you'll be back.

She clearly has nothing useful to say. Let's see if there is anything useful we can 'borrow' from her.

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Dammit.

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Well, at least we got another bucket...

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Back to the HQ. Time to get brewing!

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Everything according to the recipe.

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:yeah:

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Now we just need to get the undertaker's body, which should be at the gallows.

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Uh-oh, we can't just take it while the guard is watching.

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I'd like to ask about a few things.
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I can't talk, haven't you noticed I am on watch? What if anything happens while I am chatting to you? The mayor's been bothering us enough anyway. I've been here for seven hours now and by God I'm thirsty. Do you think he's arranged for someone to get us a drink? Of course not!

A drink, huh?

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A local tavern.

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The mayor is here.

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How long have you been the mayor of this town?
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Well, I've been the local mayor for ten years and I think I've performed my job pretty well. I was born here but lived in York for some time. After all, one of my friends from there recommended you to me. I used to travel a lot at that time and I brought my beautiful wife here from one of my journeys, with her impudent maid. Imagine, what an unbelievable coincidence, her family had originally come from here, they moved away about hundred years ago, so she has actually returned home. No wonder she's become so fond of it here.
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You're clear about the murders, aren't you?
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You already know my opinions. We found some bloody shreds of clothing by the marshes; I told you in the letter. Try looking round there. If you discover their bodies and prove they were killed by Duncombe, we'll have won.
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Almost nobody here speaks about them.
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Yes, I can imagine why. They moved in about a year ago and didn't get along with the locals too well. Others could apparently overlook their murder but I obviously can't. We are safe now, but he could have attacked any of them.
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By the way, the guard didn't get anything to drink.
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So what? Why does it bother only you? Well then, go to the innkeeper if you are so tender-hearted, he will give you something. Tell him you have been sent by me.

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Tell me something about yourself and your inn.
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I own the Broken Jug. Don't laugh about the name. I run the best inn in the neighborhood - in fact, it's the only one. But now more seriously. I've been here for some years but I'm going to leave just like many others. The inn doesn't earn me much and my wife has already arranged something on the east coast. If I could sell the inn I'd leave for her right away but who'd buy it?
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I'd like some information concerning the local people.
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I know, an innkeeper should know the locals more than anyone and I probably do know them more than anyone, but I'm afraid I'm not going to tell you anything. In such terrible times people come here to amuse themselves, at least for a short while. So why should I snitch on them? You can't expect me to. What if they got angry and stopped visiting my inn? Who'd compensate me? I doubt it would be you.
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But I have been investigating a murder!
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What murder? The murderer's already swung from the gallows pole! It couldn't be any more obvious.
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Do you know anything about the crimes?
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I didn't know the Greers much, they never came here. Well, it's bad news about the girl but in my opinion the mayor did the best he could. It was bad here even before, so we didn't need a mad murderer wandering the streets. But it's true, we do still have a madman here. Just look at old Harrel.
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I am looking for something to drink for the guard.
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And what about roast chicken? Wouldn't they want roast chicken? I didn't want them here so I'm not going to feed them or give them anything to drink!
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But I have been sent by the mayor.
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The mayor? Well, it's nice of him but he doesn't own my business. If they are so thirsty, take this wineskin and pour anything you want into it. But take my words, they don't even deserve well water!

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We could fill it with a well water, but the guard won't be too happy about it, we'll have to do better.

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Mayor's house.

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Now that's something the guard would be interested in.

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Who are you?
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I am Emma and I serve the Saintjohns. I am twenty three and I've been with my lady for nine years. Her family adopted me when my mother died in Saint Giles hospital in Maldon. I came here with my lady when she married the local mayor. I must say I liked life in the town better but I love my lady so I followed her willingly. It's not that I regret it, but this place is terrible.
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Do you know the local people?
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Actually, I don't have much time to speak with them. My lady, Helen, is simply splendid. You'll find out yourself when you know her better. My master is quite strict and he doesn't seem to like me much. The lady has taken me to the old woman living by the swamp a few times but I couldn't understand her. I am scared of her. Occasionally, I take something to Mr. Cobb to fix, he's the local blacksmith, or I borrow a book from Doctor Baker for my lady. I sometimes go to Simon for fish. I like going there most. I sometimes come across Mr. Limsey and his son. Mr. Limsey is a nice and decent man but his son is a terrible brat! I can't believe he could be his son. Oh God, sorry, I got carried away a bit! You won't tell anyone, will you?
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Of course not. You needn't worry. What do you think about the murder?
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I am sorry but I can't talk about it. I haven't been able to sleep at night since it happened and I am afraid to go into the town alone.
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But the murderer is most likely dead now.
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Most likely? Forgive me, I don't want to be trude but according to my lady the murderer is still waiting somewhere out there. I absolutely agree with her. I don't know who did it but it certainly wasn't Roger Duncombe.
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Could you pour a little of that wine into my wineskin?
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I can't! The master would find out! It would be even worse hell with him then!

Unfortunately there is no way to persuade her otherwise at the moment.

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Let's explore the village a little, maybe something will come up.

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Can't leave the village.

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What? What are you talking about?
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What? You're not ... ? Oh, what a terrible misunderstanding. I am so sorry! Oh Lord, such an unpleasant matter.
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That's all right. Who did you think I was?
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Forget about it. I simply made a mistake. Let's end this discussion right now.
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Ok, that can happen to anyone.
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I'll try to assist you as much as possible, even though your mayor's invitation won't help anything.
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What do you have against the mayor?
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The mayor, sir, is a degenerate man. I won't talk in details because I don't usually tell tales and what's more, as a doctor I should maintain confidentially. Nevertheless, there's been a dispute between the two of us for quite a long time. That is probably all I can tell you about it.
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But I need to know more!
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I don't want to sound offensive but that's really none of your business! It has nothing to do with the murder. I don't want to talk about it any more.
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The mayor isn't perfect, but you seem suspect to me.
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Suspect? I don't have a clue what are you talking about. Aah, yes, I understand now. You can't be seeing me in the best light if you've already talked to the mayor. You've just arrived and you're immediately trying to resolve old quarrels? I beg your pardon but no-one actually gives a damn about that. Furthermore, I don't care whether you believe the mayor or myself. I really do not need your sympathy.
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Fine, and what about the other inhabitants?
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You've been invited by the mayor so you must know his wife Helen. A nice young girl she is, but she's not happy with him, however she tries to hide it. She deserves a better man. If you need any help, go to John Cobb, the local blacksmith. He's harsh but honest. He doesn't like the mayor. The mayor's invitation won't help you as far as John's concerned. Then we have young Lynse, we call him Simon the fisherman. He's Cobb's dead wife's brother. He visited her while she was dying and settled here. Even I couldn't help her at that time. I don't think he'll stay here for long. There are few fish left here and those he does manage to catch are hardly edible. I don't know what keeps him here. He can often be found by the swamp, so he might know something interesting. The local innkeeper Mollins makes out that he doesn't take sides, but in fact he's on the mayor's side. Speaking of the inn - beware of old Harrel. He's quite mad and it's been getting worse every day recently. He's always talking about some money and that everybody wants to take it from him. I mean, how would he get any money at all?
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What do you think about the local herbalist?
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Old Litcott, sure. I am not one who can tell you anything nice about her. Those potions she's been making are said to have helped a few people. But listen carefully. It's just a matter of time before she poisons somebody, and we'll be lucky if it's just one. I've heard she even pours that gunk of hers into the local wells. If it's true, the mayor should have her driven out of town. This is a serious matter.
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You are said to be in touch with local monks.
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Contact has been really minimal. I've been at their place two or three times. The mayor somehow made them come to the monastery courtyard so I could examine them for signs of the Black Death. And that's all. They have a new abbot now, quite young, Brother Michael. They are a bit mad, though. They changed the black Benedictine habit for a grey one and closed themselves off from the world even more than other orders do. They've even got some sins on their conscience. They are certainly not the light that we all need here now. They'll all die just like the rest of us.
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You are said to have examined the dead girl.
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Yes, I did examine the body. I didn't have much time though, her father took the body away shortly after and had it burnt. But it really is a kind of mystery. She died of stab injuries - she had plenty of them on her body. I can't say what weapon was used but the wounds were frayed, so the weapon could have had a curved blade. There were remnants of ground gravel in the wounds.
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And what about the skin stripped from her back?
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Ah yes, the skin! Horrible, isn't it? The skin itself hasn't been found. I must say I'd never seen anything like it before. You know what? We all are to blame for it!
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What do you mean by that?
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Sins, dear Sir. Everything that happens is God's will. Rotten plants, choking mist, animals behaving strangely. All this for our sins. What could be worse than God's punishment? There's no point in defending ourselves, we will all pay in the end.
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Do you think Duncombe may have done it?
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To be honest, I don't know. It's really strange though that they didn't find any weapon on him that could have caused such injuries. In any case, the mayor shouldn't have had him hanged straight away. Now we can hardly prove his guilt or innocence.
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I'll take care of that myself, doctor.
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I have some doubts that you, hired by the mayor, are interested in finding the truth. I may be wrong, though. I'll wait and see how you get on.
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What's it like to be a doctor in Cavorn?
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It's not at all easy, dear Sir. Local people don't need to cure their bodies but souls. But I can't help them with that. The only thing I can do for them is to stay here and try to ease their lot. But it's gutsy work, Mr. Farepoynt. We are all sentenced to a slow death here. The water is hardly drinkable and the bread made from local corn causes cramps. There's nothing left here to protect. We're all paying for our ancestors' sins.
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You care about the local people a great deal, don't you?
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I have lived here too long to just leave. My place is here, with those who need me. Even though I cannot help them very much.

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Next to the doctor's house is Galfrid Limsey's house.

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He's not here though, but his son is.

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I'd like to learn something about you, sir.
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Something about me? My name is John Limsey, what a terrible name - I inherited it from my step father, and I actually dwell here only by chance. My mother came here with my stepfather but she unfortunately perished of the Black Death while traveling to London to see her friend. So, as you must understand, I am here quite unwillingly. I studied at Oxford, though, and so I hope to leave soon for some livelier place.
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Do you know the local people well?
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Dear Sir, the local people are only bumpkins and primitives. I refuse to waste a single moment talking about any one of them.
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I'd like to know your opinion about the crimes.
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The case is closed as far as I'm concerned. The undertaker got what he deserved. In this respect, that spineless mayor gave me a pleasant surprise. And the old Greers? No damage done. I'd like to know though what your role is in all this.
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You don't need to know that.
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Watch your words, Sir. Such an answer might be acceptable for a villager, not for a man of my breeding. Since such things are clearly alien to you I'm prepared to let it go this time and ask once more. What is your role in all this?

Here we could've pulled the diplomacy card again, but just look at his degenerate facial features. There's some kind of a profound alien aspect to them that always shocks me and fills me with complete and utter disgust.

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That's simply none of your business.
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Right, you have made your own choice. You shall pay for your impudence with your life. En guard!

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As I said, combat here is p. simple. Hold space to block, double click to attack. That's it.

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:smug:

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Diane, I don't usually rejoice in a victory over somebody so wretched, but this time I had to smile for the first time in a long time when I saw the horror in his eyes. If I had been in his shoes he would have killed me without hesitation. But it was he who was lying on the ground now, and his defeat would hurt him for the rest of his life, much more than his wounds. As soon as he realized I was not going to kill him he stood up, and with visible strain he tried to mask the pain caused by the injuries of such an humiliating defeat.

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Well, I have to admit you are not such a bad swordsman. What a pity I've had a wounded shoulder for several weeks. Once I fully recover, I'll be happy to demonstrate to you how I fight at full strength.

:roll:

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Let's keep moving.

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Simon, can you tell me something about yourself?
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Well, my name is Simon Lynse, you probably know that, and people usually call me Simon the fisherman. I came here several years ago because of my sister who was seriously ill. She was married to the local blacksmith, you know. And when she died, I stayed here, I didn't feel like going anywhere else. But I've been thinking about leaving more often recently. I can't stand it here any longer.
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You might know something about the murder and disappearance.
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Well, that's really bad. I sometimes saw the Greers strolling on the edge of the swamp. After all, it was me who found the blood-soaked piece of their clothing. I never talked much to them though, they were quite unpleasant. They were said to have come to spend the rest of their lives here. Well, that's exactly what they did, isn't it? Duncombe, now there's a different story. The boy simply didn't do it and the mayor has it on his conscience. Ask John, the blacksmith, he knew Roger well. I talked to him the very same day, he was coming home in a merry mood. He certainly wasn't mad then.
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What about the locals? How do you get along with them?
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You won't have much fun with most of them, especially in such strange times. The blacksmith is reliable and fair, he was married to my sister. We don't see each other often cause he's seldom in the mood for chatting, especially now, since they hanged Roger. But he's a good man. Innkeeper Mollins won't rip you off more than necessary. You'll probably come across Harrel, keep your distance from him, he's crazy. He's always chattering about some money and when you talk to him a bit longer, he starts to be aggressive. No wonder his wife is in such a bad way. The mayor is quite strange, but don't tell him I said so or he'll have me burnt.
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Well, I've had the honor of talking to him.
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He doesn't have much authority, does he? His wife is beautiful and clever, but their real treasure is somewhere else. I don't know if you have already seen Emma. Every time I need cheering up I go and have a talk with her and the world seems a happier place again. Well, I got a bit carried away. What else? Aah, the monks. I don't know much about them, I've just seen one or two of them, that's all. I give quite a lot of fish to farmer Limsey. He's a very pleasant man, he sometimes buys me a drink. But only when his terrible son is not around. Old Litcott lives on the edge of the swamp and makes various potions and similar things. She's a bit mad but when you really need her, she's willing to help you. Who else? Well, you'll find out yourself.
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You like Emma, don't you?
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Well, since you mention it ... I like her very much. She's clever, beautiful and I would love to get closer to her. You know, she's the only reason I haven't left this place for a place where the sun shines. But now I'm going to leave. There's no point in daydreaming that she could want me. She's lived in a big town for most of her life. What would she do with a man like me?

Let's use this affection to our advantage.

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Just to spare both of your time - Simon loves you.
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How do you know? Has he told you? I like him too! He could definitely protect me from what's been happening here. I'll talk to him as soon as I have a moment. Thank you very much, I hope I can repay you sometime.
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How about that wine?
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Well ... you're right, I owe you so much now. Wait, right, here you are. The mayor won't find out and if he does, I don't care. I don't care about it now.

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Now, the guard would definitely appreciate this wine, but how can we be sure that he will let us take the body?

Drowsy Eyes potion

As the name of the potion suggests, this is a soporific liquid that can put to sleep anybody who drinks just a little of it. Its flavor is however quite unpleasant and it cannot therefore be served as a drink on its own. It must be mixed with another liquid.

Composition:
1x Gwynlock
1x Watersleep
1x Devil's Luck

This should do the trick.

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Grrr, out of Devil's Luck.

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Ten minutes later...

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Finally.

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I have brought something to drink.
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May The Lord bless you for this. I was beginning to think I would dry out completely. Cheers, then. Aah, that's good. I am indebted to you, thanks.

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Good thing you have that dagger.

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Diane, cutting down the body was no problem. The guard was asleep, no doubt dreaming about being called away from this place, and apart from him there was no living soul around. To get the corpse into my cellar unseen was a bit of a problem. I sneaked with my burden around a wall and crawled in the dark along the edge of the swamp. If I had been caught by a sentry, I would certainly have had a great deal to explain. Fortune was on my side, however, and I finally got to my house without being seen by anybody. I hung Duncombe's body on one of the timbers. Now I only had to find the right herbs, prepare the Soulgreep and say farewell to the world of the living for a while.

We have the potion already, but we really ought to get a lock for the door before having our way with the cadaver. Otherwise we'll take this fellow's place on the gallows.

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About Emma... Let me just say this. Don't underestimate yourself. I know she likes you.
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What? My dear friend, how could you! You told her, didn't you? Told her that I can't stop thinking about her? Well, never mind, never mind. The important thing is that it has turned out so well. That's the most amazing thing you could have told me. Who needs the sun now! How can I repay you?
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I need your fishing rod.
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No friend, that's not possible. What would I do without it if, say, you broke it? It's not easy to make such a good rod, you need more than just twine and a stick! The fish here are quite bad anyway, but still, what would I do without it?
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Simon, how far are you with Emma?
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I know, I haven't forgotten how you helped me with Emma, but as I said, I need my fishing rod. I know, we'll do it a different way. You need to catch something and I do it for living. So I'll just go with you and catch it for you. What do you reckon?
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Sure, what an excellent idea. Let's go.

Later that day.

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Diane, when Simon and I arrived at the lake, I started to doubt whether it was at all possible to get the key out. The water was too muddy. Fortunately the fisherman had mastered his rod at least as efficiently as I could use my sword. With endless patience he lowered it into the water again and again until the hook finally located the key. Simon pulled it out of the water with a triumphant cry. I had helped him but he had now doubtlessly repaid me everything. I hid the key carefully and thankfully shook the fisherman's hand.

*barking*

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Here you are. Perhaps it'll be of some help ... wait! Did you hear it too? And now again?
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It sounded like ... a dog's bark?
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Sure, it's my Bonny. Poor dog! He must have been caught in a thorny bush again while chasing a partridge. You've got your key, I hope you unlock everything you need with it. Now, I have to go for my rascal. No, I am not mad. I know the swamp like the palm of my hand. It can hardly surprise me any more. Right, I must go. Bonny, I am coming, Bonny!

Whatever.

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I have found the key.
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Really! I'm surprised. But I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. Here's the lock with the key. It shouldn't be difficult to fit it to the door.

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We can now drink our potion safely.

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Diane, I drank the potion deep. Clarice had taught me that it's important to drink it as fast as possible. She knew very well why. My tongue registered the sharp bitter flavor and the first wave of spasm went through my body. I didn't manage to release the vial and pressed it so strongly that it cracked. Sharp shards dug through my gloves into my hands. But there was no time to deal with it. I only had a short time to do so many things - or die. With the whole world swirling wildly in front of my eyes, I fell to my knees and crawled to the belts I had prepared before. Right, fasten. Tighten. More. Even more. My sight blurred and painful cramps were going through my body with stronger and stronger intensity. Then they ceased. And at this very moment, when my body was actually dying and one of the demons was already by my side waiting to tear out my soul and carry it to the realm of oblivion, I started to cry out in the language of the creation, in Daemonica.

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Welcome to the Temple of Sacrifice. Looking good!

:desu:

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Performing the sacrifice

To make a demon bring a dead person's soul from the realm of oblivion, the Hunter must perform a sacrifice to determine exactly which soul he wants. Firstly, he must select the correct room, depending on how the victim died. In the room he uses three altars to open the door to the Hall of Revelation. There he discovers whether he has been successful or not.

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Altar of the Path

At the moment of death, the life of every victim is moving in a certain direction. Their aims and desires form their soul. It is therefore necessary to determine the meaning of their life or life path.

Duncombe was about to get married, so 'love' fits.

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Altar of the Sign

Here, the Hunter must identify the victim with the help of their birth sign. There are four signs in total. They are named, according to legend, after the human names of four demons that descended to Earth and helped humans colonize the world. Each sign corresponds to three months. They are:

Norwed, the arithmetician of stars: December, January, February
Lertyan, the shepherd of dreams: March, April, May
Talanos, the weaver of time: June, July, August
Rephen, the blacksmith of destiny: September, October, November

Smith told us that Duncombe's birthday is in September.

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Altar of the Demon

Here it is determined which of the demons is to bring the required soul. Hunters can only address two of them. Dahn-en-nyan is a demon-bearer who only brings souls. Hunters make use of this service only. The second demon, Marghet-en-dryat, is a donor of life and, according to certain legends, can not only bring a soul but also return it to the long-dead body and bring it back to life. However, this demon is extremely dangerous and it is not known as to whether anybody has survived calling it up - let alone succeeded in taking advantage of its service. Therefore Hunters never call it.

No real choice here.

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The door to the Hall of Revelation is now open. Next time we should check our facts before drinking the potion though.
:M

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I have to speak with you. I am seeking justice.
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Justice, you say? Blood knows no justice. You yourself should know there is none, Nicholas Farepoynt, you bastard born of sin. No justice can put blood back into open wounds, no justice can put the breath back into the mouth that has breathed its last. Let the dead sleep, Farepoynt. Keep your justice. Sssh! Can you hear it, Farepoynt? Blood, it's her blood trickling!
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I won't let you sleep, I won't let you go. I want answers.
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Die, Farepoynt! Your blood too shall soon stain the grass. Oh yes, I've seen your destiny. I'm going to tell you how you'll finish, defiant Farepoynt who steals eternal sleep from the dead. Do you want to hear? Listen ...
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I'm not afraid of death. Tell me what you know!
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Your own dagger will do away with you. The last blood it takes shall be yours, Farepoynt. Listen, can you hear your blood trickling?
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Everyone must die. Now answer! I won't let you go!
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Sssh, ask, Farepoynt.
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I know you didn't kill her. What happened?
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You know, Farepoynt? What could you know? Yes, you have already been through something. You saw Clarice die, didn't you? You couldn't hold the blood in her wounds. Yes, you have been through something too, Farepoynt. I didn't kill her, I would never have done it. She was already dead when I got there. But I heard her speaking. She was blaming me for her death. I saw her dead eyes watching me. It was too much, Farepoynt, too much for a mortal human mind.
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I need to find the murderer. I need some sort of a clue.
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You need the help of the dead to find clues among the living? I don't know who it was and I don't care. I'll meet him here and then I'll recognize him.
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I'll bring him to you sooner, if you help me.
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You make me laugh, Farepoynt. What do you mean, sooner? Time means nothing to me. But my blood has not died yet. Purify it, Farepoynt. Find the brooch. It was lying on the bed by my princess. Saintjohn took it. Oh yes, for him I wait as well. Find it and purify my name, my blood.
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I don't know, perhaps it will be of some use.
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And one more thing, Farepoynt. I don't want my body to rot in your cellar. I don't want it buried with the worms either. I want it to go through fire just like the blood of my princess did. Burn my body. I want your promise, mortal Farepoynt.

We can refuse to burn his body, but we're not interested in it rotting in our cellar either.

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Right, I'll do that. I'll burn your body.
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I hear your promise and I'll be watching you, Farepoynt. We shall meet again one day.
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You can go now.

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Diane, the pain in my palms was unbearable as usual. I slowly breathed out and opened my eyes. I freed myself from the ropes and crawled into the corner. Every movement was excruciating. I propped up my back against the cold stone wall and thought about what just happened. I had found something out, after all. Firstly, it was obvious that Duncombe was innocent. In addition, I knew he had found some kind of brooch near his dead Eleanor. Was it important? In any case, I should have a word with the Mayor, who had most likely taken it. It may have taken an entire hour before I gathered enough strength to stand up.

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We'll continue our investigation later. For now let's just get rid of the body.

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Diane, to get the body to the pyre was much easier than carrying it from the place of his execution. I knew that even if I didn't fulfill my promise, Duncombe could hardly touch me. But a promise is a promise - and it should be honored. And it didn't matter to what extent the one to whom I'd given it was dead or mad. I pulled the body to the pyre and lay it there. It remained only to set it alight.

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:salute:

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SerratedBiz

Arcane
Joined
Mar 4, 2009
Messages
4,143
Weird game I had never heard of before, but the writing is interesting in a corny sort of way so I'm following this.
 
Joined
May 10, 2011
Messages
1,059
Part III: Fear, uncertainty and doubt



It's time to question mayor about the brooch.

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He's not at the tavern though.

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I think you have found a brooch.
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A brooch? I see, you mean that old thing from Duncombe's house? It was of no value, I threw it away somewhere.
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I urgently need to find it.
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Mr. Farepoynt, dear Nicholas, I can't remember what I did with it and to be quite honest, I don't even feel like remembering. Why don't you busy yourself with the investigation? You are wasting time with unimportant matters. If you think it's a piece of evidence, then I have to tell you it is not. It was an ordinary trinket that had been lost there before by someone. It is obvious the culprit is Duncombe, so I don't understand why you're even trying to go in this direction.

Move along, nothing to see here, eh?

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Fortunately, there is a way to make him remember.

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The mayor has been keeping some evidence back.
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The perverted bastard! I can't say I'm surprised. It seems you've really been investigating this thoroughly. And I'll be happy to give you a hand. I'll talk to him as soon as I have time and you can be sure he'll be more talkative afterwards!
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Excellent, thank you.

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Let's hear what he has to say now.

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I want to ask about the brooch.
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Yes, that damned brooch. So it's you who sent Cobb to me, right? You have disappointed me greatly, Mr. Farepoynt. I threw it away somewhere in the graveyard by Duncombe's house. I'm not, however, sure it would be advisable for you to continue with the investigation, especially when you appear to be barking up the wrong tree.

Off to the graveyard we go.

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Time to hunt some pixels.

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I hate pixel hunting, I truly do.

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Now, to whom it might belong?

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Haven't you seen this brooch before?
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Truly a fine piece. It definitely doesn't belong to a poor man, that's for sure. You could try the mayor.

Well, duh.

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Back to the brooch - can you guess who it belongs to?
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Mr. Farepoynt, I don't want to offend you but now you're really going too far. I can see you have finally found the brooch, but why bother me with it? I don't have a clue who it might belong to. If I did, I'd return it to its owner, not throw it away.
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You threw away an expensive brooch. It's a bit odd...
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What are you insinuating? You may be used to finding mutilated dead bodies but we are not. I was in shock. I didn't think it was important so I just threw it away. Only now can I see that it's not worthless rubbish. I really had other things on my mind than estimating the price of some damned brooch.

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Do you know the owner of this brooch?
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A brooch? Let me see. Hmm, must have been expensive. Here, take it back. No, I'm afraid not. I don't know who it belongs to.

We'll just have to keep looking...

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Have you seen this brooch before?
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I don't know who it belongs to but it looks quite noble. Farmer Limsey might have enough money for it, but he wears quite ordinary cloths.

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Conveniently enough, he is sitting right here.

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You are said to own most of the local land.
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Yes, that's right, I am the richest man here because I am the owner of most of the land but that doesn't mean much in this place, my friend. I live here with my son John. He's back from his studies in Oxford. The Black Death killed my wife so we live alone together. Wealth means nothing to me.
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Did you know the Greers or Duncombe?
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I'd like to stress right away that I was away from Cavorn when both of those horrible things happened. I knew Duncombe only by sight and I daren't judge whether he did it or not. I know very little about the Greers too but I seem to be almost the only one who communicated with them. They were very unpleasant folk but I had to talk to them because they lived in one of my rented houses.
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Can you give me some more information about them?
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I can't tell you much more. They'd moved from somewhere north. They wanted to spend the rest of their lives here. Actually, they did nothing wrong, just went walking in the countryside. They weren't bad, just a bit reclusive.
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How do you get along with local people?
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I don't have any problems getting along with other people. Unfortunately, my stepson has. If you ever visit my house here in Cavorn, beware of him. He's a bit hot-blooded so try not to offend him. Here, Mollins can draw you a good beer, that's the only thing that still has some decent flavor in this damned place. You've already met the Mayor, he's got a nice young wife. You can have a good chat with Simon the fisherman but take my advice, don't buy any fish from him. I do it more out of decency. And I'm not in touch with the rest of the people. Sometimes with the doctor, but he's been quite reticent recently.
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Have you seen this brooch before?
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Sure, my son lost one exactly the same. I'll give it to him as soon as I see him.

Ding!

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I'd rather return it to him myself.
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As you like. He'll appreciate it.
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Yes, I'm sure he will.

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While we are here, let's also talk to this guy.

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What kind of voice should I hear?
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No, only Harrel can hear it and that's good, really good. All of the money will belong to Harrel. Mine, do you understand? Once Harrel has bought everything here, he will perhaps throw you remnants of food from his table.
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What money? I'm interested to know.
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Do not dare think of it. It's mine, and mine only. Whoever even looks at my money will be dead. Yeah, old Harrel spills the beans and everybody is dead meat.
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I don't need your money. Farewell.

Ok, let's go confront the owner of the brooch.

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This brooch is yours!
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Mine? What nonsense, I've never seen it before.
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I am sure we can find somebody who will confirm it.
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All right it's mine, dammit. So what? Is it a crime to wear a brooch?
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No, but murder certainly is a crime.
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Murder? Wait a minute Mr. Farepoynt, we have to clear this matter up. I haven't murdered anyone. I found Eleanor on the grass by the bridge that leads to the monastery. She was severely cut but still alive. I took her in my arms and only then noticed the huge bloody wound on her back. She was trying to say something but I couldn't understand. Look, it was hard for me because I have to admit I liked her. But she was stupid in that she preferred that wretch Duncombe.
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Ok, let's say that's the truth. So what happened next?
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The closest place where they could help her was the monastery. I ran with her onto the bridge and tried to call somebody, but in vain. Fine servants of God they are, they're to blame for her death! She died there in front of the church. I didn't know what to do and then I had an idea. A way of getting my revenge on the undertaker. His house wasn't far away and he wasn't in. I pulled her there and put her into his bed. I arranged the place so it looked like there had been a fight and left for home. There I changed my clothes, ran to the mayor and told him I'd heard a woman screaming from the undertaker's house. The fact that the poor man went mad when he found her and that he probably tried to bring her back to life and was therefore covered with blood, was just a perfect end to this ingenious plan.
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I am a Beast Hunter and your time has come.
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So, am I a beast then? Even though I haven't killed anyone? Well, I admit that by some standards I could be considered a partial murderer. But what about a butcher taking cattle to a slaughterhouse? Is he a murderer? And aren't those villagers just dull animals?
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I may let you live. They'll certainly appreciate it.
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Is this a sudden outburst of nobility, then? But of course, I understand. If I stay alive, they will kill me slowly themselves. And that's better justice, isn't it? But, my dear friend, you don't understand why I have confessed to you. No, I haven't done it to let you go and blab everything out to that rabble. I've done it so you won't die unaware of how it all happened. Actually, take it as a small apology for the fact that you have to die now. En guard!

Sigh... Do we really have to go through this again?

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Diane, he fell to his knees with my last blow. I put my dagger to his throat and leaned closer. Resigned, he let his sword fall to the ground. "Your life doesn't belong to me, but remember - you'll wish I'd finished it in the end. Me, here and now." The horror in his eyes reflected that he understood perfectly what I meant. The agitated crowd, led by the Mayor, was gathering around. They wanted an explanation. I told them everything. Well, almost everything... The Mayor refused to believe. He refused to admit what everybody else already knew. That he had sent an innocent man to his death. The crowd started to murmur ominously and to contract around young Limsey, who was trying to crawl to safety. The Mayor was trying to get the situation under control but finally shrank back into the crowd. I worked my way through the bewildered villagers to him. The crowd circled around us and occasionally I caught sight of the head of the landlord's son being hauled to only God knows where. One could hear his desperate screams long after he had disappeared from my view. Suddenly I felt extremely tired.

We could've delivered the killing blow, but that would've only affected the following monologue, so yeah.

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Me? What a surprise!
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You of course! Don't you understand you haven't done any good to anyone? You haven't given Duncombe his life back, he was mad anyway. Death means nothing to Limsey because he would've been killed sooner or later in a fight. The real murderer has not been caught and panic is rising in the town again. So is this what you wanted? Did you want it to turn out this way? Now I'll have to think of a way of suppressing the panic.
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It's still far from being finished. I have only just started.
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I insist. I expect you to find the real murderer and calm everything down again. Provided you have the capacity for it of course. And one more thing. Could you find my wife by the marshes and tell her to come home? I would prefer to see her safe - who knows how long you shall search for the murderer...

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To the marshes then.

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Here she is.

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She's wrong, I am sure about that.
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Maybe you're right. I hope you are. Maud would probably reprimand me off but I myself believe you. You are the least trustworthy looking stranger I have ever met and I still believe you. And I believe you'll find him. Go and find the beast. So that we can sleep in peace again.
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Don't worry, I'll find him. In the meantime, the mayor says you are to return home.
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My life here is already too limited for me to spend it within the confines of four walls. What is more I have a guard with me constantly. I need fear nothing.

And what if the guard is a murderer? Huh? HUH? Well, suit yourself, I guess.

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Now that we have proven to not being mayor's puppet, let's hear what the doctor has to say.

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'k

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'k

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Diane, exhausted, I fell on the bed and thought about what had happened. I was not doing badly even if the Mayor was of a different opinion. When I thought about it more thoroughly, I had to admit that he was right in a way. Young Limsey had paid for his mean deed but he didn't help me in my investigation at all. The murderer of the old couple and the girl was still somewhere out there and nobody could be sure he wasn't stalking his next victim right now. Did I scare him? Was he going to make a mistake? I hoped so. I had very few clues and fear was once more spreading across the town like the plague. I was still at the beginning. I decided to go on with my investigation and visit the monastery where Limsey had found the dying Eleanor. I fell asleep.
 
Joined
May 10, 2011
Messages
1,059
Part IV: You will believe a Benedictine monk can fly

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Diane, my sleep was uneasy and brought me no rest. A strange voice spoke to me while I was numb. "You want to put out flames but you hold a torch. Why have you come, Hooded Man? You want to heal old wounds but you keep opening them with your dagger. Why have you come, Hooded Man? You are the doom. You are the curse. You and your impure blood. Leave, Hooded Man". Towards morning another voice joined in. A desperate voice full of pain, which was as I had heard it before. "Help me, please! He's almost here! Hurry, before..." I woke up but didn't feel very refreshed. But after dreams like that it was like liberation.

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A breath of fresh air wouldn't hurt us right now.

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Diane, I could tell that something was wrong as soon as I awoke. But only when I left the house did I realize. There was not much blood in the long, wet grass, but there was more of it running down the wall of my house. I took off one of my gloves and carefully touched one of the damp stains. A prickling sensation, like a thousand needles went up my arm. There was no doubt that it was the blood of a man. And then I noticed it. A piece of wood lying a way off, which I hadn't paid attention to at first, was in fact a broken fisherman's rod. At that moment time slowed down and again I heard that voice, which was to come from the cloudy world of dreams, but at the same time it was all too real. A cry for help, a cry of a voice I had heard somewhere before. The voice of the fisherman Simon Lynse. For the first time in many months I felt fear beginning to creep into my mind. Fear of my own failure. I knew that I must begin to think logically. I looked around me. I found no traces of blood leading from the house, which surprised me. Was Simon truly dead? Where was his body then? There was enough blood around the house, but perhaps not enough to mean he was dead. Nevertheless, I felt that Simon's luck of yesterday had not lasted long. I decided for the meantime to tell only the Mayor.

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I fear we may have another victim...
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Would you keep your voice down! What kind of 'victim'? You must have completely lost your mind! And who might this new victim be?
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It's most likely the fisherman. Simon Lynse.
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Simon? And why "most likely"? Have you found a body you are unable to identify? Or what? Speak then, but keep your voice down!
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I haven't found a body, but I assume--
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Oh you assume, do you? Well that is truly excellent! Please be so kind as to keep your assumptions to yourself. Simon is no doubt wandering somewhere in the marshes and shall soon appear. I hope you haven't spoken of this nonsense to anyone?
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No, there is no need to cause a panic, for the time being.
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You are damned right there's no need. I hope you are a wise enough man to obey me when I tell you not to speak of such nonsense to a single soul. And now I have no further wish to speak of it myself.
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I am trying to catch the murderer.
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That's a good idea, Farepoynt. I hope it won't take you too long, and that you inform me before anything happens. The culprit must be caught alive and properly judged. This time we must not allow any public exposure, do you understand? We'll hang him anyway, but this time it'll be by the rules. Which reminds me of another thing - Duncombe's body has disappeared. Do you know anything about it? The guard simply fell asleep and someone stole the body. I'd say that swine of a blacksmith took it and buried it somewhere. But it's all the same, I'll let it be, otherwise I'd have to get into all kinds of bother with him. This way at least people can see how tolerant I am. Between you and me, that sleeping guard - that's clearly your fault!
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Mine? What do you mean?
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What I say. Taking him drink, that was a good idea! It's clear to me what happened. First he had a drink, then since he can have a swig while he's on duty, then why not sit down for a while, eh? And since he's sitting down, why not lie down for a bit? In short, I don't wish, in fact I strictly forbid you, to disturb the guards. You can see for yourself where such small breaches of discipline lead.

Since we're at the tavern, let's talk with everyone else too.

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The murderer is somewhere here. I need to know everything.
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Well, I grant you that the situation has changed somewhat, but still I cannot be of any particular assistance to you. I serve whoever comes here. Or do you think I listen to the private conversations people have in here?

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Yes, Mr. Farepoynt? What do you ask of a man who has lost his honor?
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The loss of your son is clearly less of a burden to you...
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You well know that he wasn't my own son, and you well know what he was like. It's my own fault I was so blind to his arrogance that I let it go so far. His death is tragic, but I don't blame you, Mr. Farepoynt. You know, a man such as myself has only one last thing which is truly valuable. It's not money. It's honor (and the other honor). Honor, which in my case, has been stained. You are not the one who stained it, you are the one who made me look upon that stain. I'm sure you understand that I don't feel exactly grateful to you for the killing of my son, whatever he was like. But your deed may help me retrieve my honor, and for that reason I feel no anger towards you.
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Who do you think could be Eleanor's real murderer?
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Couldn't we speak about something else? This entire matter is extremely unpleasant, and I'd rather speak about it as little as possible.

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He had it coming.

We where supposed to meet with the smith and the doctor, so let's do that.

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I'm pleased to see you again, Mr Farepoynt! What do you wish? Just say the word and old Cobb will do his utmost!
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Do you know anything that could help find the real murderer?
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Oh, I wish I did. If I did I'd seize him and pour this molten iron into his belly, so he could see his own insides. I spent many a year in the East, and I learnt a great deal there. I wouldn't give him a quick death, believe you me. But no, dear Mr. Farepoynt, I don't know who could have done it. When you find him, be so kind and come to me first, would you? I believe Roger and Eleanor would enjoy watching from above.
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This isn't a theatre, Cobb. This is about human lives.
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All right, then. Do what you think is best. I suppose since I didn't even see through that Limsey, I shouldn't mess about in this, eh?
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So Duncombe's name has been cleared, hasn't it?
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Well, he can't be brought back to life - and mark my words, I haven't finished with the Mayor yet - but at least the poor boy can rest in peace. All thanks to you. I cursed you foully, and all the while I usually recognized a man's nature immediately. But fear not, I shan't stay in your debt for long. I have an idea. For a long time I was a mercenary in foreign lands, and I'm without a doubt one of the best swordsmen for miles around. If you like, you can come by some time and we can train together. Not that I'd be completely out of your debt so easily, but take it as a start.
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Thank you. I'll certainly take you up on that some time.
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Wait, wait. That's not all. Someone lit a funeral pyre on the other bank. You may laugh, but I had a dream, and in it poor Roger spoke to me. I'm not sure I completely understood him, I'm only a simple man and the voice was so terrible, but I have the feeling I understood something. I believe you may be able to explain the rest to me but to be honest I'm not sure I wish to hear it. In any case I have the feeling that you have helped Roger more than the others know, and I greatly appreciate it. If you show me that you truly are a good swordsman, I may give you something more.
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The less you know, the better. But in any case, thank you.

Let's use the opportunity to hone our sword skills.

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I'd like to train a little.
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Fine, but I must warn you of something. Even if I try my best not to touch you, you may receive the odd scratch, so bear that in mind. You needn't worry about me. I doubt you could seriously hurt me, and if you did - then I've got some excellent cream from old Litcott, which will set it right quickly enough. When you've had enough, just step out of the yard, and we're done.

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I'll be damned, you're better than I expected, Farepoynt. I deliberately didn't defend myself too much, but it was clearly a mistake. Believe you me, I won't let you get that close to me again!

One more time.

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Well, I must take my hat off to you. I may have held back a little, but I see that you're at least as good a swordsman as I. Believe you me, next time we shall spar as equals.
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COME AT ME BRO

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You are indeed a far better swordsman than I, and I've met precious few of them in my life. But you fight very simply. For what you did for Roger - including the funeral pyre - I'll teach you another type of thrust. I see that you not only deserve it, but you'll be capable of making use of it.

We can now swing our sword from left to right using the right mouse button! No idea if anything other than animation is different though.

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Oh, that's enough, I'm cut all over. You truly are excellent, Farepoynt.

Alright, let's move on.

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It's good that you came, a terrible thing has happened!
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Calm yourself, Doctor. What's happened?
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I had prepared my chronicle of Cavorn for you, and then when I left my house for a short while, somebody stole it!
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A shame, but still, there was nothing important in it, was there?
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In the chronicle no, but I had prepared a number of very important documents for you. They must not fall into strange hands. You must find them together with the chronicle, it is extremely important!
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What was the content of those documents?
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I really do not have time for that now, Mr. Fareypoynt. The entire matter is too complicated for me to clarify it with a mere few words. Find those materials and then you shall understand. Hurry, we have no time to lose!
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All right, I'll start looking for them now. I still need to know some details.
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Of course, but I can't tell you much. Anyone could borrow the chronicle, but the documents were carefully hidden. When I prepared them for you, I unfortunately had to leave the house for a moment, so I hid it all quickly under the mattress. And when I returned, the chronicle and documents were gone!
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Where did you go?
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I had to go out for a while, after all I am only a man, Mr. Farepoynt. Unfortunately I was around the back of the house, so I didn't see the door.
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How long were you gone?
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Surely no more than five minutes.
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And somebody came in and stole the documents?
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Well, it truly sounds a little strange for it to be a mere coincidence. I don't understand it, but the thief must have known where I hid it. Nothing was overturned, the thief didn't look anywhere else.
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He must have been watching you for a while.
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Yes, that's possible. Perhaps he watched me through the window, when I hid it. But he would have definitely had to be watching me for a long time. Perhaps he was waiting somewhere close until I left the house. Now that I think of it, it starts to scare me a little...
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Did anyone ever show an interest in such materials?
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Nobody here in Cavorn ever had the slightest inkling that those documents which were lost ever existed. The chronicle was public, when someone wanted it I gladly lent it to him or copied out a part. I know that the monks from the monastery are looking for the entire history of the town for some reason, but I don't believe they would be involved. Even if - who knows?
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I'm trying to catch the murderer right now.
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I implore you, Mr. Farepoynt, above all find those documents. Once you get to know their content, your search will be much easier.
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So then why don't you tell me more about them?
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This matter is too serious for me to simplify it in anyway. It is absolutely essential for you to understand all correctly in the right contexts, otherwise you could commit something irredeemable. Now please ask no more of me and rather go to find the documents as quickly as you can.

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Alright, let's look for clues.

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Nothing out of the ordinary here.

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Nor here.

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Nooope.

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:hmmm:

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Hmm, someone could have been waiting here for the doctor to leave his house.

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I've found the place in the field where the thief was probably waiting.
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In that field before my house? In Limsey's field? I'd probably notice him - even if it's true that my sight is very poor these days, and in that darkness... Perhaps the thief was counting on that! Every new piece of information is good, but at the same time, it hardly helps us find the documents much, does it?

Limsey again, huh?

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I'm interested in your field by the doctor's house.
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Have you seen how Harrel's destroying it? But leave him to it. It's all the same to me. There are more important things in the world.
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Harrel? What are you talking about?
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Oh, I thought you wanted to tell me he's tramping all over the field again. I've caught him at it twice. He was standing there, the field stomped all over all around him, not moving an inch and just staring into space. I drove him out, and then a while later he was there again. That man's truly seriously dangerous. The second time I preferred to leave him to it. He can stay there until judgment day for all I care. The harvest there's not worth a bean in any case.
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Thank you, that's very useful information!

Back to the doctor's house.

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The thief was most likely Harrel.
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Harrel? Why would he do such a thing for God's sake? Even if ... Oh God! Those voices he heard! Mr. Farepoynt, this matter is more serious than I thought. You must find him. At all costs. Go, please. This moment!

And where could Harrel be?

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I'm looking for Harrel. Have you seen him?
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That old fool? I've no idea but he did buy a rope from me not long ago. Perhaps he's finally hanged himself from a high tree and given us all some peace.

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I'm looking for Harrel. Middle-aged guy. Do you know where he is?
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Well, he sat here at the table with me for a while. He mumbled something to himself, then he got up quickly and left. Where, I'm afraid I do not know, perhaps his wife will know. In any case he seemed even more distracted than usual today. He truly had pure madness in his eyes. I believe he could be highly dangerous, you'd better watch out for him.

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Do you know where Harrel is by any chance?
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I do not, but if you sit here, he's bound to come by. He is here more often than he is at home. Not that his wife would mind.

This guy is useless as always.

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I need to talk to Harrel.
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That old drunkard? I don't know where he is.

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Beautiful day, isn't it? Things are taking a turn for the better. Order shall soon be restored here. Your presence here is not required here at this moment, you may leave with a clear conscience.
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I'd like to go back to Limsey.
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I always said that he was capable of anything. But who'd listen to a maid servant, eh? They called me cheeky. Cheeky maybe, but clever, I say! And I must congratulate you on how well you resolved the issue. If anyone does succeed in catching the real murderer, it's bound to be you, Mr Farepoynt.
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Have you noticed anything suspicious in the town?
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Well, everything around here's so strange, you can see it for yourself. Have you heard that Duncombe's body's disappeared? In the inn someone said the blacksmith had taken him away and buried him. And now you come to mention it there was another thing - yesterday I went to see my lady to the edge of the marshes, where she collects herbs for that strange old woman, and I heard some strange sounds coming from the bushes. I'll never go there alone again. Why should I? After all, now I have Simon, he'll protect me.
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What kind of sounds?
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As if some kind of huge beast was grunting. It gave me a queer feeling.

Mayor asked us not to tell anyone about Simon, but what can possibly go wrong?

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Emma, I must tell you something about Simon...
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Yes? He sent you to tell me that he'd be late, didn't he? Well it doesn't matter - what's a couple of minutes or hours more.
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I fear he may be dead, Emma...
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What? I ... I surely misheard you, Mr. Farepoynt. I could have sworn you said...
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...that he's most likely dead, yes. I'm sorry.
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My God, surely not ... why do you say such things? Have you seen him? What happened to him?
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I haven't seen him, but he's evidently somewhere in the marshes.
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That's nonsense. Absolute nonsense. You're merely confused. I'll bring him here myself and show you what nonsense you speak! Oh my God, Simon!

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Maybe telling her wasn't such a brilliant idea. Oh well!

:troll:

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Good day, sir. I was hoping to see you, but I had some strange dreams. Perhaps we should not meet.
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Surely you are not afraid of dreams?
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I am afraid of death, Mr. Farepoynt. Death, which shall come when we two are together. In dreams it sinks its bony claws into me and chokes the life out of me. At times it has my face. My own face... Leave, sir, while there is still time. Please.
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You need not fear. I shall protect you. *tips fedora*
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And how do you propose to do that, dear Nicholas. You ought to be quicker the second time!
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Clarice...?
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Are you all right, Mr. Farepoynt? You have turned white as a sheet. Did I say something wrong?
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No, it's... I just remembered something.
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Yes?
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Above all you should not be outside. It is not safe here.
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I am here with a guard. But you are right, I probably should not stay here long.
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It seems to me that you're hiding something.
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I ... don't know what's happening. I feel as if I've been sleeping until now. Everything suddenly seems different to me, and you sir, it's as if you came to awaken me. I am hiding something? I don't know, perhaps. I hear a number of voices. A woman's voice in the distant, and that shadowy voice, which is coming nearer. I haven't yet told anyone. Not even the herbalist Maud. But I'm afraid.
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I'm looking for Harrel. Have you seen him?
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No, I haven't, but I know that even his wife is looking for him. Poor woman, she doesn't have it easy with him.

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Have you seen my husband by any chance? I cannot find him anywhere.
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I'm afraid I haven't.

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Welcome, Hooded Man. Black blood has now begun to seep from the wounds you have opened. There is more and more, and it cannot be stemmed. Who shall not have blood on his hands, once you have fulfilled your mission? Who, Hooded Man?
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I do not bring evil, I have cleared Duncombe's name.
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Yes, it is truly strange. You have assisted justice, and so I must be mistaken, mustn't I? You cannot be the threat I saw in you... But the world is a strange place, Hooded Man. In what resides your justice? Your efforts have so far merely ended another human life.
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Young Limsey got what was coming to him.
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Maybe yes, maybe no. Are you the one to judge? You are a mere instrument, envoy and executor. Does the dagger know why it has been plunged into the heart? And can the dagger control the hand that guides it? You are that dagger, Hooded Man. You are an instrument of doom, not the one who causes it. You may understand your fate, but you cannot control it. Have you assisted justice? I cannot judge. Should Limsey have died? Yes, for sure, it was his fate, intertwined with yours.
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I need help to find the real murderer!
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I do not know him, for me he has no face. I feel his presence in my dreams, but I do not see him. However, you are close. More blood has been spilt, Hooded Man. Young and innocent. I felt it.
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Another victim? Was it Simon?
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Simon the fisherman? I do not know who it was. I would be very pained if it was Simon, however. He was a good boy.
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So try a little then! Is he still alive?
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I would like to help you, but I truly know nothing. I only felt blood cooling in wet grass.
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Why do you not simply say what you know?
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Why should I utter words you do not wish to hear, which you refuse to let into your ears? You are Haresh al-Dorem, but nevertheless you wish to have clear answers? After all you must know, the answers are never clear. Leave the images from my dreams to me. You would not understand them, and they could harm you.
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I expect you have not seen Harrel?
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I do not know where he is and I do not wish to know. His mind is a much too dark and dangerous place. A place where he isn't alone. And that is not good, Hooded Man.
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But I must find him.
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Well, if you need to so much, then perhaps I could help you.
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Even if I am to be the 'perdition' of you all?
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Are you surprised that I wish to help you, even if you are to cause our demise? When will you finally understand? I have no choice. I can do nothing else.
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Forget it, what you say makes no sense.
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Fine, then do not look for sense in the things around you. Perhaps for you ignorance will be less painful. I am not completely sure if I shall be able to tell you what you wish to hear, and what is more, it may be dangerous for you to know, but you seem to be willing. I need you to bring me the special herb known as the snake's tongue. With its help I may be able to find Harrel. However, it will not be a simple matter to find the herb. It cannot be seen with the naked human eye. Here you have a recipe for a special potion. Perhaps you have heard of it - it is known as Azraim's eye. You must find the necessary herbs and prepare it. I shall give you one of them, serpentica, you would have difficulty finding it around here. Once you drink the potion you should be able to see the snake's tongue when you get close enough. I must warn you, however, Hooded Man. You will start to lose your strength. Once you have found the herb, return to me and I will remove the potion from your blood.
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But that snake's tongue could be anywhere!
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When you hear the voice of the wooden watchman, who guards the marshes day and night, go under his gaze until the land disappears into the depths. Wait there for your winged guide. It shall show you the way.
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Oh fine, more riddles! Is that all?
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Almost. When you bring the snake's tongue, you must have all the potion out of your body. I however sense that you have great doubts. Are you still prepared to undergo this?
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I have no choice, I'll try it.
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Come then, when you have found the snake's tongue. You have all that you need.

Eye of Azraim potion

This potion, named after a demon - creator who granted people sight, enables the Hunter to see objects and actions that remain hidden to the eyes of ordinary mortals. Its use is very dangerous, however, because its poison slowly consumes the body of its bearer and if not driven out, can even kill it.

Composition:

1x Serpentica
1x Tear of Stone
2x Devil's Luck
2x Gwynlock

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:cry:

We've spent a good ten minutes looking for herbs.

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The potion is ready, so now we have to look for a "wooden watchman". It's best not to drink potion before we've found a watchman, because our HPs will be ticking down.

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Well, this thing is what we were looking for.

:drink:



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"When you hear the voice of the wooden watchman"

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"go under his gaze until the land disappears into the depths"

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"Wait there for your winged guide. It shall show you the way".

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We're following that bird.

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There you are.

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I have found the herb! Here it is....
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Show me. Yes, yes, that is truly it. Well done, Hooded Man! Now we must get the potion out of your body.

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Diane, the herbalist spread strange grease over my arms, carefully cut a vein and let my blood flow into a bowl she had prepared. Life began to slowly escape from my exhausted body. But it wasn't my fate to die in such a wretched manner. When I had the feeling that I heard the demon's wings, the blood ceased to flow and the wound immediately healed. I had survived.

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So, do you know where Harrel is?
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You must give me more time, impatient Hooded Man. Some things cannot be rushed.

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We'll use this time prepare a healing potion, since we're kinda low on HPs.

Sneeya's Breath potion

This potion bears the name of Sneeya - a woman that lived many hundreds of years ago. According to legends, she was possessed by one of lower demons, which granted her the ability to heal. Sneeya's breath can heal minor injuries Hunters may suffer in frequent fights and skirmishes.

Composition:

2x Bloodstone Weed
2x Watersleep

Sneeya's Touch potion

A stronger version of Sneeya's Breath potion. It can heal even quite serious injuries.

Composition:

3x Bloodstone Weed
3x Watersleep

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So, do you know where Harrel is?
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Yes, Hooded Man, he emerged from a grey mist into my dream. He was swallowed by the ground. He went into its jaws and shall remain there.
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The jaws of the ground? Does that mean a mine?
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I have only my dreams and visions, no crystal ball. But yes, you are right, it may mean that he entered a mine.
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Thank you, finally some useful information!

To the mines!

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What's up with you? :?

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Yes? What do you want?
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I need to be let out of the town.
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Unfortunately that's probably impossible, we've received a message that a band of robbers is approaching. Some of them may already be somewhere close by. If I let you out, they could take advantage and force their way in.
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But I'll only be a short while.
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I know, but even so I can't take the risk. If you need to get out urgently, arrange it with the Mayor. He ordered me not to let anyone out, so he can cancel the order.

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I need to leave the town for a while.
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Not that I'd miss you so terribly, Mr. Farepoynt, but may I ask the reason for this request? I hope you do not wish to flee from unfinished work?
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I am looking for Harrel, and he has left the town.
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Oh, that really takes the biscuit. We've got a band of robbers practically outside the town gates, and you decide to jeopardize the safety of the town for the sake of that old fool! First of all I don't believe he would have been able to get out of the town, and even if that were possible, I will not put us all in danger because of him. So I'm sorry, but my answer is no, it is not possible.

ffs

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It appears that we're kinda stuck at the moment.

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But there has to be a way out of this village!

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Wait...

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Who the fuck are you?

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I must speak with you stranger. About a very important matter.
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Speak then, monk.
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I come on the order of abbot Michael. The Abbot asks you if you could spare him the time and go to the monastery to speak with him. It apparently concerns an extremely important matter. I am to convey your answer to him upon my return.
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Do you know what he wishes to speak with me about?
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It is not for me to meddle in the abbot's business, and so I do not know. The Abbot himself will no doubt best explain why your presence at the monastery is desired.
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If it's so important, then I'll go there.
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Good, then we shall expect you. In ordinary circumstances we do not allow strangers into the monastery. However, I am to give you this key to the main gate. I truly do not know what caused the Abbot to act in such a manner, but it is an exceptional honor. You must not lose the key, or give it to anyone. Farewell.

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:what:

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Me? Why me, of all people? I don't even know him!
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Precisely because you don't know each other. I should probably explain to you that we, myself and the others, had a certain disagreement with Brother Thomas, and at this moment he is not so well inclined towards us. But despite the fact that his behavior requires sanction, I cannot allow him to commit such a terrible sin. I cannot look on as he sells his soul to hell by his own doing!
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Very well, then. I'll try to talk to him.
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Thank you, we shall pray for you both.

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Suicide is a great sin.
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For me it is the smallest. You know nothing. How long have you been here in this town? A month? A week? I've never even heard of you, stranger. You cannot understand what is happening here. We are cursed and damned, even if we haven't lost it ourselves. It was our predecessors, but our guilt is no less! We have failed...
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What was lost? What are you talking about?
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No, leave me. Do not speak to me. God, forgive me for failing you!

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:hero:

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Yes, he gave me no chance to talk him out of it.
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Poor Brother Thomas, may God take pity on him. Even so, I thank you, I know you tried to help and I shall not forget it. For you our door shall be always open, which is a privilege extended to very few. May God be with you and give you the strength to fight against all that is evil and impure!
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I am sorry I was unable to prevent Brother Thomas' suicide...
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Do not trouble yourself with it, you tried, but God's will was otherwise. But now that you mention it, perhaps you could help us in another way. Only I don't know if I may ask another favor of you.
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Well, I shall try. What do you require?
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We cannot just leave his body lying beneath the cliffs at the mercy of wild animals. After all, he was a good Christian! Could you go there by any chance and bury him in some manner or even bring his body here? It is not too safe for us outside, and nobody here is strong enough to bring him here.
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I don't know if the Mayor will let me out of the town.
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But he shall let you out, believe me, he shall. That is the only place we still have any influence. I shall tell the guards that you may bring him into the town and that they are not to cause problems upon your return.
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Very well, I shall go and look there. By the way, I would like to ask about the dead girl.
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Eleanor, was it? Yes, we heard about her here. I hear that conceited young upstart found her by the bridge beneath our monastery. I should probably explain something to you. No doubt there are those down in the town who are happy to blacken our name in your eyes. Yes, we are very secluded, but show me someone who is not in these times. It is not long since the Black Death was here. Two thirds of us were killed within a week. My predecessor himself was one of the victims. Even those who survived have never fully recovered. I do not know why God chose to punish us in such a manner. Perhaps it is a test we must undergo. But please do not connect us with things that take place outside the monastery. We do not deal with such things.
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I have heard that you are spying on the town...
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Spying? Well, I should probably tell you the truth. It is not good for a servant of God to lie, even if his intentions are pure. Since its very foundation, our monastery has had within its ownership a precious stone, which apparently has great powers. Although it is strange, we have almost no records of this in our history, and we can only guess what kind of stone it is. It seems to me that the most probable version is that it is a fragment of the rock bed from which Christ rose from the dead. That stone was carefully hidden beneath the floor of the chapel for hundreds of years. When the plague descended on us, as well as many other tribulations, and I became Abbot, it came to me that I could perhaps help to drive out the evil with the help of the precious stone. So I had the entrance to the crypt in which the stone was kept, broken in. It was empty.
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That's what he spoke about before he jumped!
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Brother Thomas? Yes, I expected he might speak of it. It seems we have failed, Mr. Farepoynt. Evidently not ourselves and perhaps not even any of our predecessors who we still remember is responsible, but someone from our order allowed the stone to leave our monastery. Perhaps it happened fifty years ago, perhaps five hundred years. That is no longer important however. That shadow has been cast also upon us.
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And how is this connected with this 'spying' in the town?
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I sent one of the brothers to look through some old records, from which we could perhaps ascertain something about the fate of the lost stone. As incomprehensible as it may seem, all the written records have somehow been lost. There is only a chronicle which the local Doctor writes, and that charts only a ridiculously short time.
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Some documents have just been stolen from the Doctor...
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And just at this time we are seeking various documents from the history of the town... If you look at it that way, then we are truly under suspicion. But I can assure you, Mr. Farepoynt that all documents the Doctor could have offered us, we regularly borrowed, studied and returned unblemished. His documents chart the events of the last ten years, and are entirely without value for us. Why would we steal them? Who would try to break down a door that is not locked? We obtained all the Doctor could offer us upon first request.
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Perhaps there were other, more interesting documents.
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Do you wish to say that the Doctor had some more important materials? But why did he not show us them? Why would he conceal them? No, Mr. Farepoynt, I think you rather overestimate Doctor Baker. The only documents are those he has written during the period he has worked here. We know precisely that there are and have been no others, and Baker can thus have nothing more. I did not send the Brothers to the town for nothing. Yes, if it were the case, it would surely be very interesting. But unfortunately, for some mysterious reason there are simply no materials relating to the distant past of the town. If the Doctor's chronicle has been stolen, that is certainly no great loss. I have read it myself and it contained nothing of interest.

If you say so.

Well, let's finally get out of the village.

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I am looking for Harrel and the body of a monk from the monastery.
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Ah, that crazy monk who jumped off the cliff, is it? The Abbot informed me. What do I have to do for those Benedictines? To fall out with the church, that's all I need right now. All right the, go and look for him. I don't know what you'll start out there, but at least nobody can say I didn't do all I could for them. Forget about Harrel, God knows where he's ended up. I'll send a message to the gate that you may leave, but I hope you'll try not to bring us into danger.

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Oh, it's you! Oh, well, apparently I can let you through the gate. But I have to say I don't like it at all, even if the Mayor thinks it's necessary. From now on just give me a shout and I'll let you in and out.
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Fine, thank you.

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His pose makes more sense when he is up there.

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:hmmm:

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Uh-oh.

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I'm looking for the dead monk. Where is he?
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What? Are you deaf? Cough up all of your loot. If you're bothered about where that milksop ended up, I tied him to a stone and threw him into the pool not far from here. Not much of a funeral I grant you, but the last thing I need is some dead body decomposing a stone's throw from our camp. If you wanted to rob him, friend, you're out of luck, he didn't have anything on him. Only his monk's habit, and I'll have that for myself. Now enough prattle, hand you're your things!
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You'll have to take them from me yourself!

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Vae victus!

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Well, let's visit the mine now.

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This can be fixed.

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We gradually make our way deeper into the mine, lighting any torch we can find.

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A rope leading down. *insert Fallout reference here*

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Diane, a small room appeared from the gloom of the corridor. At first I noticed a figure, which lay spread out on the floor. It was the corpse of Harrel, beyond all doubt. Even in the weak light of the torches I could clearly see the long, gash wounds on his body. Whatever had happened here, I had come too late. I only then noticed that I wasn't alone. From the gloom some kind of figure in torn clothes was slowly approaching. It was impossible to hear over the wheezing.

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:what:

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Where the hell have you come from? How do you know me?
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Greer wait. Wait long and Farepoynt come.
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I don't like the sound of this, get away from me!
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No, Greer come closer, close to living Farepoynt. Very close!

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Diane, the sword's blade whistled in the gloom and Greer received another blow. He tottered. For a moment I rested and waited for him to fall to the ground. To my amazement however, he recovered, turned and with a speed I could not have expected from him and disappeared around the nearest corner. I carefully wiped the stinking, blackened blood from my sword. Only then did I get a moment to balance my thoughts. What was all this supposed to mean? It was Greer without a doubt, but what a state he was in! His skin was peeling off his body in strips, and the stink of rotting flesh was appalling. How could he possibly be alive? Would anybody believe me if I told them what I had just seen? No, I would have to leave that for myself. At least for the meantime.

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I would never get him past the gatekeeper like this.

I wonder if we have anything that can help us in this situation...

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This will do nicely.

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Diane, this is the part of my mission that I perhaps find the most distasteful. I dressed Harrel in the monk's habit and laboriously dragged the body into the higher level of the mines. When I stopped to rest, I put his body on my shoulders. His wounds had not managed to dry, and so his blood soaked through the cloths and dripped over my shoulders. After a while salty, burning sweat began to drip into my eyes. I loathed every moment of this suffering. When we reached the gate, the guard crossed himself and let us in. It was clear that he thought Harrel was the monk about whom he had been informed previously. On the way to the monastery I quickly ducked into my house, taking good care to make sure that nobody saw me. I rested only once I had placed the body in the cellar. I did not doubt that in the closed off monastery they would not hear so fast that I had brought the body of a monk into the town, and so I could tell them the truth - that I had not managed to find the body. The best lie is after all always cleverly presented truth.

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Don't go anywhere, brb.

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I found the body of Brother Thomas.
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You did? I see that unfortunately you do not have the body with you.
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No, the bandits threw him in the pool.
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Bandits? Poor Thomas, I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted a watery grave. But nothing can be done. I thank you anyway. You did everything within your powers.

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We would like to question Harrel, but we don't know when he was born. Hopefully his wife will be able to help us here.

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She keeps wandering around the village, so it takes some time to find her.

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I'm afraid your husband is dead, Mrs Harrel.
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Dead? What happened to him?
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He had... an accident in the mine.
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I suppose there's no point in asking what he was doing there? Him and his voices! I thought it would end this way.
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You don't seem so distressed by the news.
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It's terrible, I know, but you can't imagine the kind of life I had with him. I couldn't get a word of sense out of him for the last few weeks. He beat me for as long as I remember, but recently I truly feared for my life. It was enough to say almost anything and he'd fly into a rage. He would have killed me, Mr. Farepoynt, sooner or later he would have killed me without a doubt!
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Say nothing to anybody about that for the moment.
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Of course, as you wish. I'll go home and I'll have to think about what I'll do next. Since I'm all alone now ... but I'll get by somehow!
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One more thing - do you know which month he was born in?
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Why sir, do you take an interest in such a thing? Now of all times, after his death? Perhaps twice he told me he was born on St. Patrick's Day, the Irish saint. But he made up all kinds of things, so who knows if it's true or not.

Which gives us the month - March. We're all set now.

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Now, which door should we choose?

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He was obsessed with money.

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And born in March.

We pick the default option on the third altar.

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No, Harrel, you are not king. You are dead.
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Dead? I cannot be dead! I was to be king, Harrel was to rule over all! The whole world, just for a couple of papers.
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What couple of papers, Harrel?
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Just a stupid old book, and how much money for it? But where is it? Where is my money?
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Did someone offer you money for the chronicle?
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Oh yes, riches for Harrel and poverty for the rest. And the price? Just bring the chronicle down to the mine.
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What happened there?
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I lit those old torches. But nobody came, nobody brought Harrel the money. And then Greer appeared. Greedy, tight-fisted Greer. Perhaps he took the money which was meant for Harrel. He wanted to kill me, I'm sure. But Harrel escaped.
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You didn't escape, Harrel, you are dead.
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Harrel is not dead. Harrel must only hand over the chronicle.
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And where is it?
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Where is it? Where is the chronicle? That bastard Greer must have taken it! I'll have to go after him. We'll see yet who gets the money in the end.
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Do you know anything about the murders in Cavorn?
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Murders? I know nothing. Harrel is not interested in others. Living or dead. Nobody shall have enough money to even speak to Harrel as an equal!
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So go, deranged Harrel, I need no more from you.

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Let's update doctor on the situation.

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Harrel is dead. I found nothing with him.
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That is the worst news you could have brought me. I simply must at least know why he took the chronicle. And what he wanted to do with it. That could help us find out where it is now. But we'll never know now, all is lost.
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I managed to find out.
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But that's simply impossible. How could you have found out? But I said myself, there is no time for lengthy explanations, so if you truly think you know, then please tell me.
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[say what I know from Harrel]
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Then we are truly lost. Leave, Mr. Farepoynt. There is nothing left here, and nobody who you could save. Go as far away from here as possible and live your life. It may not last long.
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That's enough, Doctor. I want to know everything. Everything!
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Fine, you have the right to know, and perhaps it will take the burden from my shoulders if I can share it with someone. However, now is not the time. Go and sleep, Mr. Farepoynt. You will need a clear and rested mind. Tomorrow shall be a long and demanding day. One of the last days of Cavorn.
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So tomorrow then, and no more secrets!

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Diane, even though I did not expect that I would be able to sleep after such a day, my body overcame my sense and sleep weighed heavily upon my eyelids. The dreams came one after the other. I saw a bedroom and a bed inside it, on which I myself lay. Next to me sat Helene, watching, I swear as if in love, as I slept. I saw that though she was smiling, tears were flowing down her face. Then she stroked my face and placed her other hand under the pillow, under my head. A sharp light broke the dream, and brought another. I was standing on a boat in the middle of an endless, calm lake. Opposite me sat Simon, smiling. His mouth opened to tell me something, but instead of words, small black snakes began to pour out of his mouth. One after the next. There was a sharp white light and then another dream. And then another. And then that voice. It came deep and bellowing, and then again disappeared. It kept repeating the same as before. "You want to put out the flames, but you yourself hold the torch. Why do you come, Hooded Man? You wish to heal old wounds, and you open them up with a dagger. Why do you come, Hooded Man? You are the doom. You are the curse. You and your impure blood. Leave, Hooded Man". I was torn from the madness taking place in my own mind by noisy blows. I opened my eyes. Someone was banging at the door.
 
Joined
May 10, 2011
Messages
1,059
Part V: In which things take a turn for the derp

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Someone is banging at the door.

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Haven't seen him before.

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wat

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Bid farewell? You have just arrived and now you are leaving?
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You have a sense of humor, I like that. No, I have arrived, but it seems to me that you are the one who is leaving.
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Well that's truly just your imagination. I have no intention of going anywhere.
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But that is a mistake, a grave mistake! A mistake which could easily cost you your life...
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Keep your threats to yourself and get the fuck out of here.
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Well, I thought you would be wiser. But even so, I wish you the best of luck. And one more thing. If you see Doctor Baker, tell him I'm looking for him. He may wait for me in the inn, for example. So Goodbye.

Well, we wanted to visit him anyway.

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Beautiful day, isn't it? Things are taking a turn for the better. Order shall soon be restored here. Your presence here is not required here at this moment, you may leave with a clear conscience.
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What are you doing here? Where is Doctor Baker?
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Do you see him anywhere? He clearly is not here, and that is all I know. So if you are looking for him, you should not be here, should you?
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And then what are you doing here? Are you looking for something?
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Am I looking for something? You are beginning to be rather importunate, don't you think? But that is my fault, I should never have invited you here. Perhaps I shall be forgiven. But to ease your mind, you may know that indeed I am looking for something. I am looking to see whether the Doctor wrote anywhere those lies with which he wished to blacken my name. All shall soon change, and Saintjohn shall start again from the beginning. All sins of the past shall be burned. All shall begin again.
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What shall begin? What are you talking about?
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Calm and order, Mr. Farepoynt. Calm and strict order shall soon reign here, and I shall once again have everything firmly in my hands. No disappearances, no murders. Not even a fly will land on a window if Saintjohn does not permit it. All shall honor Saintjohn. Very soon.
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I have heard someone speak like that before...
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Who? Does someone wish to take my place? To take Saintjohn's power?
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Is this in some way connected with Fabius' arrival?
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Do you speak of that new stranger? I don't know who he is I did not invite him. However, he had some authorization from Rome, so I preferred to allow him in. But what does it matter? Soon Saintjohn shall once again have power in his hands and the strangers shall leave. You and the other.
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The Doctor shall hear of this.
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So what? What will he do about it? The Doctor is a slanderous old man, who has been trying to blacken my name for years. But once Saintjohn has all firmly within his hands, he shall get his.

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Have you seen Doctor?
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You mean today? No, I haven't.
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Have you spoken with Fabius?
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Fabius? I don't like him a bit. That man is dangerous, that's for sure.

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Has the Doctor been here?
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You're the second person today to come and ask me that question. First a stranger who calls himself merely Fabius, and now you. No, today I haven't seen the Doctor at all.
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Have you spoken with Fabius?
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That stranger? Well, I'll tell you that there are things happening here that never cease to amaze me. For months nobody has been here, and now you come along, immediately followed by that oddball. And strange things are starting to happen. In any case, that man was here. He exchanged a few words with the Mayor, but had nothing to drink. He asked me about the Doctor and then disappeared. He acted as if everything here belonged to him.
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What 'strange things' are you referring to?
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Well, all kinds. This thing with Duncombe, the disappearance of Harrel, and do you know how long it's been since anyone saw the fisherman Lynse? I don't wish to offend you, but nothing like that used to happen here before.
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So what's new?
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New? Well, wait ... Harrel disappeared, his wife is suddenly strangely calm, the fisherman has also apparently disappeared, strange sounds can be heard coming from around the marshes, the murderer of that young girl is still running around somewhere out there, another stranger has come to the town - basically nothing new at all.
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I'm asking you seriously.
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And seriously I'm telling you that there are rather too many new things happening here for my liking. And on that note I'd like to end the debate. If you want a drink, then say the word. Don't look for anything else here.

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Maybe Doctor Baker went to the marshes?

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:whatho:

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Emma? What are you doing?
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I haven't found Simon, but in the marshes I at least came upon his dog. So we're looking for Simon together. I'm sure now that we'll find him. Bonny is a fine tracker.
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Emma, the dog is dead!

:dead:

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That is most cruel of you, Mr. Farepoynt. Poor Bonny does not deserve that. He may not be as fit as he once was, but he is not so young. You now see death everywhere. You should probably rest yourself.
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Shouldn't you go home?
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How can I go home, when my Simon is waiting for me? You put us together and now you wish to divide us? No, that will not happen, Mr. Farepoynt. Not now.

Yeah, we definitely shouldn't have told her about Simon.

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Remember this guy, his name will come up again later.

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Everything must end some time, just as day must some time become immersed in the darkness of night. But I have told you now many a time that I cannot blame you for your actions, because you are only an envoy. I am prepared to die, so do as you must.
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Do you wish to tell me that I shall kill you?
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How could you not know it? I saw it that time in the mists of my dreams. The hooded figure, which comes into my house and chokes the life out of me. I feel that that moment is now very close. Perhaps it is now here, Hooded Man.
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Your death may be near, but it will not be by my hand. Will you finally tell me what is happening around here?
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Do you feel like a puppet, driven blindly forward by fate? A puppet whose steps are not within its own powers?

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What other feeling could a puppet have? If you wish to understand, look around yourself. Darkness is awakening and coming to the surface. And you, Hooded Man, you shall complete this mission of doom. By your travels down a road with no diversions. You are still here, and there is more blood in your fate. What must happen shall happen.
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I need to find Doctor Baker.
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We shall not undergo it a second time, Hooded Man. Sometimes the second time can mean the last.
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Emma has gone insane. Couldn't you help her?
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Me? Could you help her yourself, Hooded Man? And would you wish to? Perhaps it is her fate to forget about the evils of the world and be happy for a while yet, before we are swallowed by the jaws of darkness. Here, take the recipe for the potion. It is called the Mist of memories. If you wish, you can prepare it and let her drink it. She will then lose her memories of the last few days and sink into a state of languor. The effects of the potion last for about a week, so you need not worry about what will happen afterwards. You know best yourself.

Mist of recollections potion

The purpose of this potion is simple. It is used to suppress bad memories or experiences. After its use the affected person forgets the events of the last day or two, as well as the place. The recollections begin to return after approximately one week, but are far less intensive.

Composition:
3x Waterleaf
1x Gwynlock
1x Tear of stone

We can ignore Emma, but let's no be like that.

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In addition to memory erasing potion, I also made a big healing potion. It will come in handy later.

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Drink this.
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Do not take offence, but I have no time for such things. Look! I think Bonny has just found the trail. Haven't you, Bonny?
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This potion will help you find Simon.
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Ah, well that's something else entirely. Give it to me quickly. Hurry up then. ... What's happening, everything is swirling and sinking into a mist. And you ... somehow I don't remember. Do we know one another?
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Emma, go home immediately and do not go out.
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Very well, as you wish. My lady is surely looking for me by now.

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While searching for herbs we've stumbled into this guy.

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Step back, spawn of hell! I don't have anything you might need. Leave me in peace.
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Calm down. What happened? Do you need help?
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You won't delude me with this human face. I recognize your eyes!
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Calm down, I'll take you to safety in the town.
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Where do you want to take me? Is this my last hour? I'm not ready, I can't leave now. Give me more time.
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I see it's hopeless. Good luck, featherbrain.

There is nothing else we can do about him. Probably some unfinished quest.

We are still looking for Doctor Baker.

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Yes? Do you wish to be let out?
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Did you by any chance let the Doctor out of the town?
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Doctor Baker? Well... I .. no, I didn't!
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So you did, then...
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All right, I let him out, but please don't tell the Mayor.
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Of course, why would I tell him?
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Thank you! I wouldn't normally have done it, but I cannot see any bandits outside, and the Doctor was so insistent!

He must've went to the mines.

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We might be a little too late.

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This time we won't let Greer run away.

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A good thing that you killed him. But I fear that our troubles are far from over. I should rather say 'your' troubles, because, mine shall evidently end very soon.
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Why did you come here?
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I know, I am foolish and I should have waited for you. But those stolen documents were too important. When I learned that you had found Harrel's dead body here, I had to come out and find whether the documents were here somewhere. Not only are they not here but I was surprised by Greer. Or more precisely, what's left of him.
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I still don't want to believe it - a zombie?
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The living dead? Yes, Mr. Farepoynt, a zombie. Don't be scared to believe it. Without doubt you shall have to confront even far less believable things.
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Are you seriously injured?
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Yes, quite seriously. All my life I had devoted to the science of knowledge of the human body. I know things about which the majority of my colleagues do not have the slightest inkling. But what use is it to me now? I can describe to you precisely every injury I have in the language of science, but I cannot heal them. That is the fate of the Doctor who knew too much and was capable of too little.
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Perhaps all is not lost. Here is a healing potion. Drink it.

Told you it would be useful.
:M

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I was a fool to underestimate the power of nature. It seems that my surface wounds have healed. Look, there's not even a trace of them! But nevertheless, I am losing my race with time, Mr. Farepoynt. I feel how that zombie has infected my blood with its poison. I feel it coursing through my veins and spreading through my body. We don't have much time. Please help me, we'll go to your place. I have much I must tell you.

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I have lost, Nicholas. The poison has completely taken over my body and now it is infecting my mind. Look, the wounds have reopened. Forgive this old fool that he was unable to assist you in any way.
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Quick - in which month were you born?
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What? In June, but why does such a thing interest you? There are so many things to which you surely require an answer, and you ask me about when I was born?
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Shhh, don't speak, I feel him approaching.
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Who is approaching? Why has it suddenly gone so cold? I don't want to go yet, I still have to...
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Farewell, doctor.

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I've gathered all required herbs beforehand, so we can mix a potion right away.

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Yup.

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Brace yourself, infodump is coming.

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On the border between the worlds of the living and the dead.
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And why are we here? Aha, so that's the way it is. I'm dead, aren't I? Well, nothing can be done. I thought it would be worse.
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All the better, but let us lose no time. I came for answers.
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Then be patient. There is much you must hear of. It all began many centuries ago. The ancient Romans had a tradition of opening the 'Mundus Cereris', the gateway to the world of spirits and the dead, three times a year. They then offered various sacrifices in order to pacify them. Then harmless demons emerged from the pit and walked the streets of the town. At that time nobody worked and the battles abated. However, one hot summer, almost ninety years after the birth of Jesus Christ, the ritual went wrong. One of the Mal'erie, ancient and powerful demons, emerged from the pit into the world of humans. Because it could not exist in our world without a human body, it attempted to control the body of the priests conducting the ritual. It killed four immediately, and only in the body of the fifth did it manage to take a hold. The priest fell into a coma, but he lived. They immediately closed the pit, and took the priest to his house. At that moment nobody had an inkling of what they had unleashed. While the best Roman doctors went to the priest's house to treat him, the demon grew stronger in his body. It learnt to live in and control the body. It studied the contents of the priest's mind, and was intrigued by what it found.
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Why should I be interested in that?
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Because what happened a thousand years ago may have an influence on the thousands of years that follow. And now let me speak. You have invoked me, so let me say what must be said and listen to me. The demon was so enthralled with the human world that it decided to control it. However, it understood that it would never be able to control more than a mere human body, so it decided to familiarize itself better with people. To find their weaknesses and then exploit them. To control their minds. It gradually controlled the body of the priest so much that in the night it could prowl around the dark corners of the town. There it first began to kill. It chose the old and sick, who did not have enough strength. It took strength from their blood, and from their skin read their fates, desires and passions, as if from a book. More were killed, and the whole of Rome took fright. It took almost two weeks before they managed to discover that the murderer was the priest, who during the day remained motionless and spread the seeds of death during the night. Although the demon killed many guards, eventually they overpowered it. Three eminent wise men prepared a special cage and locked the demon within. They locked the cage with the help of two keys - rare stones. However, it was clear that the demon could not remain in Rome. It tried to control the minds of its prison guards, and the town was horrified by its mere presence. Dark clouds covered the sun, and animals began to die.
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I understand now. And now it's somewhere here, is it?
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Yes, it is. At that time the Roman army was organizing military operations in the territory of what today is England, and in this area the chieftain Gnaus Julius Agricola came upon some ancient underground corridors, upon which he built the westernmost outpost of Roman civilization - Cavernium. A fortress which served for supplying the armies in this hostile territory. What could be a better place to send the demon than the very end of the known world? A special convoy brought the demon here and placed it deep underground, where it could be guarded more easily. They brought one of the stones here with them. The second remained in Rome, so as to ensure that the stones were as far from one another as possible. The demon's dungeon was originally to have remained a secret, but its legend soon spread around the world. Savants began to come from all over the world to see the demon and communicate with it. The demon seemed to calm down, but only because it was devouring the information that the savants were inadvertently giving away for nothing. It had plenty of time.
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Why are there no reports of it?
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You shall learn that immediately. A small hamlet grew in the course of time into the prospering town of Cavorn. Savants came here from the entire known world. All went smoothly until the time when a Jewish sage...
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I knew it, I knew it!
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...named Yerik arrived in the town. He remained in the town for a long time, and apparently wished to stay here for the rest of his days. However, there was something in Yerik's blood which did not sit well with the demon. Yerik was the only one to understand that the demon was becoming ever more dangerous. The demon realized that he had been found out, and flew into a rage. In a fit of anger it tried to escape from the cages which held it. The cage held, but the earth around was shaken, and all the corridors leading to the underground prison caved in. They thus forever imprisoned Yerik, the demon, as well as a number of guards who were there at the time. When the Pope, Theodosius I, heard of this, he realized that the danger had been extinguished. However, he wanted to be sure that nobody would further investigate the buried demon. And so the Brotherhood of the Silent was founded.
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Brotherhood? For what purpose?
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Its mission was to destroy all existing records of the existence of the demon. A part of the brotherhood settled directly here in Cavorn. Thanks to their constant endeavors and the oppression of those locals who refused to forget, within a few decades the demon had become a mere fairytale, and was soon forgotten. A second part of the brotherhood traveled the world, destroying those who spoke of the demon, as well as any traces thereof.
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At that time the library in Alexandria burned down, didn't it?
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Bravo, Mr. Farepoynt, your knowledge truly surprises me. Yes, the brotherhood's methods were truly draconian, but their mission was successful. All calmed down, and the Demon, buried in the depths of the earth, was forgotten. The part of the brotherhood residing here in Cavorn gradually withered away. The problem had ceased to exist. At least, that's how it seemed for the following centuries. But approximately thirty years ago the situation in Cavorn began to deteriorate rapidly. Less and less light, poor harvests, sick animals. People gradually began to desert Cavorn. Two years ago, thanks to a great coincidence, I came upon some hidden materials, diaries kept by members of the brotherhood here. I discovered everything. In truth I didn't believe it, but to make sure I sat down and wrote a letter about what was happening here and sent it to an address in Rome which appeared frequently in the diaries. Yes, it was a crazy idea. The brotherhood had by now indisputably completely ceased to exist, and if that address in Rome still existed whatsoever, it had surely been occupied by someone else entirely for dozens or even hundreds of years. Whoever read the letter would no doubt think it was from some kind of madman. But nevertheless after that time I still half expected someone to appear and introduce themselves with the motto by which the members of the brotherhood recognize one another.
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What was the motto?
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A member of the brotherhood must make himself known by completing a quote from the bible. The beginning is 'For so is the will of God, that with well doing', and the reply 'ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men'.
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You tried that on me!
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Yes, I originally thought that you could be one of them.
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Why didn't you tell anyone?
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How could I? Without those materials nobody would have believed me, and they contained information too serious to show to anyone else. Furthermore, I continued to refuse to believe it myself.
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So the demon is walking around somewhere outside?
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Well, it's probably not so simple. If it isn't all a fairytale, then the demon is evidently still locked somewhere underground. Otherwise things would be considerably worse. But I believe that for the whole time it has been trying to get to the surface. Perhaps it has some servants which it sends here to the surface. In the mines I fought with what remained of Greer. Perhaps there are more of them. I have no doubt that one of them brought it the skin of Eleanor. Mr. Farepoynt, I used to doubt it, but after the theft in my house I am entirely sure of it. It is trying to get out, and looking for information - Harrel most certainly stole the chronicle for it.
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But what would it find there? It remembers everything itself.
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I am not sure, but I believe that it is interested in one ting - the location of the stones, the keys which can give it freedom.
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Thankfully it cannot learn that from your papers.
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That is precisely the problem, Mr. Farepoynt. There was information there about the stone which came here with the demon. Originally a strange religion grew up here around it, which evolved over the centuries into an ordinary order. When the brotherhood destroyed all traces of the demon, they stole the stone and hid it somewhere. In the documents I came upon a strange riddle, which according to all could indicate the place where the stone is hidden. It is written 'Where I stood, autumn had surrendered its reign, but spring still slept. It slept like the dead in their dreamless sleep, lying all around. And before my eyes, in the direction where the day falls asleep, in the ground I found what I sought'. If this truly describes the place where the stone is hidden, then you must find it. Although I do not know if the demon has got into its possession the second key, which remained in Rome, but we cannot risk it. If it gets out, nobody shall ever imprison it again.
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Very well, I shall try to find it. And then what?
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I can tell you no more. They are calling me, Nicholas. Please now let me go. From now it is up to you alone.
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Thank you, Doctor. Rest in peace.

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Diane, the demon disappeared with a hissing sound, and I curled up on the cold stone floor. I had surely never been in a church for so long. The things the Doctor had told me ran through my head. Suddenly everything had begun to fit together like a jigsaw. The darkness which had engulfed Cavorn, the disappearances, the murders, all of it could suddenly be explained. Even the identity of the disagreeable Fabius was no longer so veiled in secrecy. But what was I to do now? How could I, a mere mortal, stand in the way of one of the oldest demons? If I didn't know how to right the situation, I at least had to ensure that things did not get worse. I had to find the stone.

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Before searching for the stone, let's visit the monastery.

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What is happening here?
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Everything we do is turned into sin and evil. Nothing absolves us of our sins, nothing saves us. Just as you were unable to prevent Brother Thomas from jumping, we also, motivated by good intentions, bring only destruction. We are missing two of our brothers. I do not have the slightest inkling where they have gone.
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Have you searched the area?
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Yes, I sent the other Brothers, but nobody found anything. The ground shows no traces of them.
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Could they not have left of their own free will?
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Once I would have berated you for such a blasphemous notion, but troubled times have come upon us all, and even as servants of God we are still mere mortals, resisting temptation. Yes, they may have gone. However, I expect that almost assuredly somebody saw them coming down from the bridge.

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They could've went to the graveyard.

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What is he doing here?

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Huh?

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Look what I have found.
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A piece of a monk's cassock? Where did you find it?
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Nearby. In the graveyard, by one of the crypts.
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Why, that is an outrage. Two of the brothers searched the graveyard, but found nothing. I shall talk to them again. They are old and their sight is failing them. At least you found it.
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Send someone there to open the crypt.
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Do you really think that is necessary? We should leave old bones to rest in peace... Even if, what have we to lose? We are all now cursed in God's eyes. Very well, I shall wait until the Brothers return from their prayers, I shall choose one of the younger ones, and send him there. If we find anything, I shall let you know.

Right, so back to searching magic stones. We're actually very close already.

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"Where I stood, autumn had surrendered its reign, but spring still slept. It slept like the dead in their dreamless sleep, lying all around".

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"And before my eyes, in the direction where the day falls asleep, in the ground I found what I sought". There is a soft ground here, but we must get rid of Fabius first.

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You have not left yet? But that could truly be a grave error. Look carefully around yourself? You see graves, eh? Human life, dear Mr. Farepoynt, is a fragile and transitory thing. And it is often ended suddenly by a single mistake. You are an educated man. In fact I have the feeling that you know far more about many things than ordinary people. Why do you refuse my advice, when I am glad offer it to you as a friend? Why do you not take your things and go?
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For so is the will of God, that with well doing...
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I have no idea what you are talking about.
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What is this, have I made you nervous? :smug:
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Listen, Farepoynt, there are things it is better not to know. Take your belongings and leave, and forget everything you have seen and heard here. You do not have the slightest inkling what is happening here. You are playing with things that will swallow you alive. I have nothing personal against you, so leave, while there is still time.
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Why do you wish me to leave? You know nothing about me.
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I know enough, but even so I would like to learn something more. You are not an ordinary man, Mr. Farepoynt, you cannot hide that. Not from someone who has met with persons similar to you before. Without doubt you have certain interesting abilities, which I would, in other circumstances, be very glad to investigate. But time is a merciless master and drives me on. Perhaps another time.
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What are you looking for in the graveyard?
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He who asks much, learns much. I am taking in my surroundings. Admiring the architecture. Seeking inspiration. Choose for yourself. What if you were to answer me? I have now spoken with almost all the guards in the town, but they cannot find Robert Otlay. Do you know by any chance where I could find him?

We saw that guard earlier, but let's play hard to get.

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Are you joking? Do you seriously think I'll help you?
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Do as you wish. You may bitterly regret not helping me while you still had something to offer.
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Alright, I saw him to the north of the herbalist's house.
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Ah, the herbalist. I should also go by there. Thank you, Mr. Farepoynt. Perhaps I shall one day remember your meager assistance. Whatever, I shall survey this place a little longer and then I shall go to her.

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He's gone. Let's get digging.

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Diane, I dug for a long time and was beginning to doubt whether I was digging in the right place. What if the stone was elsewhere? What if someone had found it long ago and taken it away? Eventually however the tip of my spade hit against something hard. I looked down into the pit, and amongst the remains of decayed wood I found what I was looking for. A small stone, one of the two keys. I carefully stored it. I did not know precisely what I would do with it, but I know that whilst I had it on my person, it could not be used to free the demon. And for the meantime that was enough.

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Cool. Let's show it to our good friend herbalist.

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Diane, I entered the room and banged the door shut behind me. First of all I saw the herbalist. Old Maud Litcott was sitting in her chair as always. But this time she was not rocking, and her limp, lifeless body lay there like a rag doll. There was no doubt that she had been strangled, her ashen face and bulging eyes were clear evidence. However, I had no time to spare on her, I had to devote my attention to it. The strange creature, which perhaps once was a man and was now dancing around the cooling body. I looked into its eyes. They were the eyes of an angry beast in the grip of madness. Immediately I recognized that this primitive, raging creature was clearly not responsible for the cold-blooded killing of the herbalist, I could see no signs of a struggle, no injuries. So then who? It started towards me. There was no escape. To turn towards the door would mean leaving my back unguarded, and that would have been a fatal mistake. I had to fight. Fight and defeat what had previously been a man and had now become a demon's puppet.

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:eek:

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It's pretty fast, so we got hit a few times.

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Diane, I carefully lifted up the old woman and left the house. As usual, the town was deathly quiet and calm, but nevertheless I went carefully and examined each dark shadow. When I eventually reached my cellar, I sat the herbalist on the bench and prepared to return upstairs and lock the house. But at that moment I was no longer alone...

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Helen? Get away, this is not for your eyes!
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No, I shall not leave. My place is here. All my life I have waited for something, all my life I have waited for my destiny to be fulfilled. Do not force me to leave, in any case I cannot hear you. I don't know what you feel for me, but I have decided to be with you. You need not love me, but do not try to rid yourself of me.

:hmmm:

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But what about the Mayor?
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Do you really believe that I would want to stay with him now? He has never been interested in me, and for me he was merely the hand of fate that brought me here. Now I understand it. It was our destiny to meet. Our paths have joined here.
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But you do not know what I really am...
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Do you think I am stupid, Nicholas? That it does not strike me as strange that someone fills his cellar with corpses? Listen to me well. Until now I have not truly lived. I don't know if it was your arrival that awakened me, but in any case, that is what has happened. I began to have visions, strange dreams. I have seen the past of my kin, I have recognized what courses through my veins. You think you are special, Nicholas Farepoynt, a Hunter of beasts, but you do not have the slightest inkling of the things I have seen. Let me decide for myself what is best. I have chosen you.

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Diane, I looked at her for a long time. That look was truly unreal. She stood in the room filled with corpses and did not even notice them whatsoever. When she then smiled at me, a chill ran down my spine. She was right, there was truly something strange within her, an inner power which I suddenly felt. It was no longer the Helen who had humbly collected herbs by the marshes. The fire in her eyes burned me alive. She stretched out her hand to me and we went upstairs. In the hours that followed, everything around became distant and irrelevant. Helen had decided to tell the Mayor everything, and to take her things and bring them here. She did not wish to spend another day with him under the same roof. Perhaps she believed that we would immediately go somewhere far away. I did not want to spoil her joy and tell her that if I failed there would be no place in the world far enough from Cavorn for us to live safely. When I walked out of the house with her, she was glowing with happiness.

Yeah, telling the Mayor is such a great idea.

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He got to us first though.

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Well, well, what's all this? Has my dear wife taken a liking to our honored guest, Mr. Farepoynt? How pleasing! Would you excuse us for a moment, dear? Go home please, we have to talk about something, all right? What, do you also have something to say to me? Excellent, then we shall discuss it. But this shall be only between myself and Mr. Farepoynt... So, now that we are finally alone, Saintjohn would like to make you a certain offer.
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What kind of offer?
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It may not be easy for you to understand, but we are standing at the threshold of a new era, a new world. A world, in which Saintjohn shall play a great role. And in this new world there may also be a favorable place for you. Your abilities are admirable, even if you do not exactly use them in a productive manner.
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I think I know what kind of world you speak of.
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You know? You have understood what is happening here? You are sharper than I expected. But all the more reason for us to talk about it. Please come by my house and we shall discuss it. This is not the place for such talk.

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I am glad you have come. Sit down and have a little wine with me. We have much we must speak of.
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Very well then, speak.

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There is no point in hiding it. I know about the demon.
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The Lord does not like to hear the word 'demon', Nicholas. Remember that. But it is good that you know something, that shall save us time. The time has come for the Lord to take the reins and begin his rule over the entire world. It shall begin here, and Saintjohn shall be the first to follow in his footsteps and look on as the heads of kings roll and their empires crumble before his eyes. Saintjohn shall live eternally and shall assist the Lord until the earth disintegrates into dust beneath his feet.
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For the moment, your Lord is locked underground.
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Yes, that accursed cage that holds him in. But it shall open, Nicholas. The two keys are close now, very close.
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But you do not even have one, do you?
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No, not yet. I do not know how the Lord wishes to obtain the second, but the first of them is within our reach. Perhaps I could take it now, eh?
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How... my God, my head is spinning...
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And your limbs are heavy, aren't they? I could have used a number of poisons, but this one is truly my favorite. It works very slowly, and the end is truly hideously painful. You wanted to ask me how I know that you have one of those stones is on your person, didn't you? I simply know. The Lord uses many eyes, even if he is alone in darkness. Well, perhaps before you die he shall speak to you. Surely you understand that I had to kill you. I hope you didn't think you could simply take something that belongs to Saintjohn and escape unpunished?
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What shall happen to Helen?
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Quiet, Nicholas. The more you speak, the more it shall hurt. You need not worry about Helen, her end was relatively quick.
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You killed her!
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But why would I do such a thing. The poor thing slipped and fell into the river. Such an accident, who could have expected it? A shame nobody was around to help her out of the water. But perhaps I may even miss her a little. But Nicholas, your eyes are closing. You must not leave Saintjohn so soon, Farepoynt!

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Diane, the Mayor's voice cut through the quiet buzzing, and for a while that too went silent. There was a frosty darkness all around. For a long time nothing happened, and then I heard a familiar woman's voice. "How could you drink it? Have you learnt nothing from me?" Clarice was still as sweet as when she was alive. "You are very lucky that he used poison to which you are partially accustomed. When you come to, you shall have to finally begin to do something, there is little time left." I wanted to tell her that without the second key the demon could not escape, but I could not speak. "How can you be so sure that the demon does not already have the key? Do not waste any more time with journeys to the Temple, you have to act in this world, you understand?" The memory of the Mayor brought with it an enormous wave of hatred, and an image of the helpless Helen. Helen - I knew I had to get her back. Whatever the price. "Fool", Ranting Clarice, and for the first time I heard anger in her voice. "Leave her. This is not a personal matter. This is not the time or the place for your ridiculous feelings. You cannot bring her back to life." But I shall. Even if for no other reason than to make sure I don't end the same way as you. Only now do I see. I see what I do not wish to become. I do not wish to become like you, embittered Clarice, incapable of feeling. For this reason I shall bring her back. I clung to that one single thought. I must get up. And then the darkness gradually dissipated. I was lying in the Mayor's house. I got up slowly. The Mayor had made a great mistake by not checking whether I was truly dead. A great mistake...

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Last edited:
Self-Ejected

supervoid

Self-Ejected
Joined
Oct 9, 2014
Messages
1,076
I forgot that I was plaing this game (I probably finished it). It has great atmosphere.
 
Joined
May 10, 2011
Messages
1,059
Part VI: The power of love, desu~~

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Ugh, hangover is a bitch. Let's whip up a healing potion.

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Diane, as soon as I entered the house it seemed strange to me that it was not locked. But only here in the cellar did I understand. The Mayor or someone else had got in here and taken all the bodies away. I was almost overcome by a feeling of desperation, but then I noticed that at least one thing had remained. My equipment for preparing the potions lay on the table. So my luck hadn't abandoned me completely.

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Great, now let's go see what's going on in the village.

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Ah, Mr. Farepoynt, where on earth have you been? A swordsman such as you mustn't miss out on such fun!
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What's happening here, Cobb?
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These creatures suddenly rushed in from somewhere and began to massacre anyone they came upon. A couple of soldiers held them off by the marshes, so most people managed to hide themselves at home. I have no idea what is happening, but it looks like the end of the world.
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Why don't you go and hide yourself?
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Are you joking? I'm having the time of my life. If these are our last moments, I'm not going to spend them hiding under a blanket. If another one of those hellish creatures tries to get close he'll go straight to join his brother.
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Have you seen the Mayor or Helen?

Oh yeah, we were supposed to look for Helen.
:M

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Helen? You've really settled in here, Mr. Farepoynt, haven't you! Not that I wouldn't wish you good luck with her. But unfortunately I haven't seen her. But I saw that swine of a Mayor running somewhere towards the marshes. Those beast will no doubt have torn him apart by now. I wish I had the chance to do it myself.

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A quick detour into the tavern.

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For God's sake, help me! Get those hellish creatures away from me! I beg you!
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Hold on, Mollings, blood shall cover the walls.

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Thank you, Mr. Farepoynt! Thank you! If it had not been for you I would be dead. What vile kind of creatures are they? What can we do?
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Close the house and let nobody in. Good luck!

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Here she is.

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Diane... Poor Helen. I knew I had to get her back. I carefully lifted her and brought her to my house. I felt how anger and hatred for the Mayor had gone beyond all the boundaries. In a way I welcomed it. I did not try to hide myself in anyway. Nobody could have stopped me at that moment.

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Now to gather enough herbs...

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Area near the monastery is a perfect place to gather herbs. When we're done, let's see how monks are doing.

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Have any monsters appeared here?
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First of all we saw them coming from the marshes into the town. Then one of the beasts appeared by the gravedigger's house. Thankfully it went somewhere towards the town. They are no creations of God, they are the spawn of hell!
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How does it look with the crypt? Did you open it?
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Yes, in the end we managed it. Can you imagine, a hole has been broken into the crypt from somewhere in the depths. So I preferred to make sure the crypt was closed again.
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I need to go in there.
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You had better change your mind. It is perhaps precisely from there that those creatures have come.
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You're right, I must do something else first.

The game won't let us go there before we are finished with Helen.
:decline:

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How else can I help you?
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Retreat into your buildings and lock yourselves in.
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There is no sense in running. Either God shall have mercy on us - if so we need fear nothing and our enemies shall be trodden into the dust, or if we are truly damned, then we shall never escape God's punishment, wherever we may be.

:roll:

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Alright, let's do this.

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We knew her birth month for quite a long time now.

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To remind you:
Marghet-en-dryat, is a donor of life and, according to certain legends, can not only bring a soul but also return it to the long-dead body and bring it back to life. However, this demon is extremely dangerous and it is not known as to whether anybody has survived calling it up - let alone succeeded in taking advantage of its service. Therefore Hunters never call it.

But hey, muh waifu.

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Diane, for a while I remained lying on the floor and waited to see whether Dahn-en-nyan would change his mind and take me into the realm of oblivion after all. But incredible as it may seem, I truly survived. I survived the calling of the demon - the giver of life. I had never heard of any case where someone survived. However, the most important act still remained. I had to be sure that I had truly succeeded. I stood up and carefully examined Helen. However, I could not perceive the slightest sign of life. I gently shook her. Nothing. I was not aware of any mistakes - the simple fact that I had returned alive meant that I had done everything right. So why had nothing happened with her? I sat there with her and observed her for a long time. Death had taken none of her beauty. I knew that I could do no more. I had to go. The evil out there would not wait for anyone. With a heavy heart I left her there in her eternal sleep.

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We can go into the crypt now, but there is still one thing I'd like to do. We'll need this potion.

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See, Nicholas, some kind of beast gave me a scratch, and that's how it ends. Death can be as absurd as life, eh? I'm just sorry I didn't get the chance to retrieve my honor.
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Your time hasn't come yet. Drink this.
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Do you think it'll help? Hmm, I truly do feel better immediately. Now I have to get home.
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Wait here, I'll see if the road is safe.

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It isn't.

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Thank you, Mr. Farepoynt. I shall never forget you.

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Alright, we're all set.

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I need to go in there.
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You had better change your mind. It is perhaps precisely from there that those creatures have come.
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That is precisely why I must go there.
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Well, if you insist. I will send someone to help you get inside. Once you are there, we will close it again. If you want out, just shout.

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Diane, inside the crypt I found the place which had been broken into it, large enough for a fully grown man to pass through it. I carefully went through. After a while, the very roughly hewn tunnel changed into a larger corridor. I crawled out and straightened myself. The air was very cold and damp. The torches on the walls were lit. Their eerie light poured into rooms in which human feet without doubt had not stepped for hundreds of years. And somewhere in there was it. The demon. Perdition. I did not know exactly what to do, how to prevent it from getting free. But nevertheless, I had to try.

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We have to stop the demon from getting out!
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What? You know about that? Then why do I continue to underestimate you, Mr. Farepoynt? You are a very clever and very dangerous man. But for your information - liberate the demon is precisely what I am trying to do. And that is why we two can never co-operate. You know only a fraction of the things around you. You have a corpse and a murderer. But there is a bigger picture, of which you see only shards. You would not understand this.
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You must know what it is capable of!
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What can you know of the brotherhood? You know nothing. Now listen to me well. For a certain time the brotherhood basically ceased to exist. But evil times have forced us to reinstate it, even if our aims were somewhat different and it no longer concerned the demon whatsoever. It was only that letter, which notified us of what was happening here, that forced us to turn our attention back to the demon. But we did well. Our predecessors were weak and were unable to make use of its power. We shall not make that mistake again. I shall subdue it. I have studied this a great deal.
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You are insane. It will kill us all.
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We shall soon see who is insane.
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In any case you cannot liberate it.
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Hmm, so you know about the stones. But then I shall have to disappoint you somewhat. I brought one of them with me. And the second was given to me a while ago, if somewhat against his will, by mayor Saintjohn himself. But I assure you, we wish to make use of the demon for good purposes.
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Is it worth endangering the entire world?
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The fate of the church, Mr. Farepoynt, is also in danger, and that is worth taking certain risks for, don't you think? The Pope sits in Avignon, whereas his holy place is and must always be in Rome. My tongue hurts me to speak of what is happening within the church. The Pope no longer listens to God, now he is dictated to by the French queen. Why do you think the Black Death has come in this time? That it can be mere coincidence? No, Mr. Farepoynt, we are not trying to destroy the world. We are trying to return the world to where it belongs. Back to the light of God's mercy, away from the darkness of depravity and sin. Now is that an aim worthy of condemnation?
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No, we must not let it happen.
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Your opinions are of no consequence. What must happen shall happen. And the most you can do is simply watch. If you live to see it whatsoever. Farewell.

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Gotta save the world somehow.

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This one is locked.

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So let's take the only other way.

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A zombie.

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Looting time!

:yeah:

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:hmmm:

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Hey, I have a great idea!

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It will be useful later, trust me.

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This door is inaccessible.

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Well, at least we can grab this torch.

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We came into hallway with a bunch of closed doors.

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One of the doors is open though. Inside we found some levers, one of which was broken.

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We replaced the broken lever with a torch and pulled 'em all down.

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All the doors are now open!

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Let's cut it with a dagger.

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:whatho:

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Who are you?
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It is of no importance who I once was, and of no importance who I am now. I am one who is waiting for a death which has been denied me. For hundreds of years I have been in this hole.
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And why are you not like the others?
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When the earth shook and the underground passages collapsed I was imprisoned here in this cell. The demon gradually drew all the guards to it and turned them into its servants. I also could not completely resist, and so this is what became of me. But I am too far from it for it to control me directly.
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How is it that you haven't gone mad after all those centuries?
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I prayed for madness to come and ravage my mind, but it simply did not come. You cannot imagine what I have undergone. I beg you, end my life. If you do it, I shall tell you a secret.
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Very well, then tell.
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Whatever you do, do not overlook the library. You shall find very important information there.
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The library? That caved in room?
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Has it caved in? Yes, that is possible. But there is another entrance. Look for the secret switch in the next room. That shall let you in. And now make good your promise.
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Here is your liberation...

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He was right.

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Feels a bit small for a library.

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For all guards present and future, so that they fulfill
their obligations well and do not err in the performance
of their task:

Remember that anyone who visits the demon must be
accompanied by two guards who can intervene in case of
emergency. There must thus be three people for journeys
to open the demon's prison.

However, not all are able to see the demon. Let the
visitor thus decide how to lay the paving stones correctly.
Only one who knows all the elements of earthly forces, the
deadly sins and the number of the beast should be allowed in.

However, do not forget that the guards must first of all
prove their identity in order to gain access to the demon.

One of the keys from the northern gate must always be kept
here in this room.

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The key will open the heavy door we saw previously. But first we have to pixel hunt for it...

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:argh:

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Diane, the door opened slowly, revealing a view to another bridge. On the other side stood Mayor Saintjohn, shaking like a leaf. How did he get in here? It seemed that all the others had it easier than I did. But it had always been that way, and still I had never flinched. I did not intend to make any exception on this occasion.

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Saintjohn has failed and his master shall not forgive him. Saintjohn lost the key. He cannot survive.
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I shall kill you myself. Like you killed Helen.
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Saintjohn cannot go before his master. No, he cannot.

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Let's go to the right first.

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Nope. Let's take the other passage.

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The Final Puzzle™.

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First we must make the buttons on the floor active.

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*click*

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*click*

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And now we have to press the right ones. "Only one who knows all the elements of earthly forces, the deadly sins and the number of the beast should be allowed in". 4, 6 and 7. But how do we press all of them simultaneously?..

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:yeah:

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We can now cross the bridge.

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Diane, I was at my destination, even if I had imagined it somewhat differently. The room was almost empty. What secrets had the walls around here heard and echoed back? How many people had worshipped here and how many had given orders? And how many had truly understood? I had expected some gigantic monstrosity. An enraged devil, a column of living smoke or perhaps some strange animal. But in the cage was only a man, leaning heavily upon the bars. His body was altered, but its human form was still perceptible. Its head was bowed and it breathed with difficulty. I was glad that I did not have to look into its eyes. Had I come too late? Both keys were laid out by the cage, and a strange odor emanated from the body in the cage. The demon. Close by stood Fabius, clearly in a trance, waiting for the demon to enter him. Despite the fact that the cage was still locked, its power was evidently now spent. I came closer, and only then did Fabius notice me.

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Enough blood has been spilled, and yours shall be the last.

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He is no match for us.

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:desu:

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Here I am, demon. I, with the blood of Yerik, known as the Just, coursing through my veins, handed down through the generations. I now offer you my body and soul.

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I should probably thank you for taking such a risk and returning my life to you. But I would do the same for you.
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What has happened here? How did you do it?
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Many things came to me in the other world. Only there did I finally learn my mission. I spoke with Yerik, who died here many centuries ago, and who fathered a child with a local woman here in the town. I became aware of his blood in my veins. And I discovered how to make the demon come into my body.
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But how did you come back to life? And how did you get here?
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Too many questions, my dear. We shall have plenty of time yet for answers.
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That will be rather difficult when the demon controls you.

Yeah.

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Have you still not understood? It would not control me. Yerik's lineage is special, and untouchable for the demon. I think I shall be able to hold the demon within me without it being able to manifest itself.
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You are not sure? And what if you can't control it?
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If the demon controls me, then the world is lost. But if you want to be sure, you can end it here and now. I am almost certain that I shall be able to hold the demon by my soul until it leaves this world. If you think that it would be better this way ... then touch the demon inside me please aim well.

Well... Better safe than sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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...echoed off the walls one hundred times louder and filled my ears. I sat by her and held her hand until it went as cold as the stone around us. I sat there with her a while longer. In the depths of the earth, in the middle of the forests of Albion, where I had taken the life of someone I loved so I could again serve the mark of the damned.

And saved the world.

But that's not the only ending possible.

Helen stays alive:
I couldn't do it. I knew that she was my key to a normal life. To a life which may not always be carefree and happy, but in which I could truly live. This was my last chance, and I must not let it slip through my fingers. So we left together. I have never forgotten what she has inside her. From time to time I watch her and wonder if she is trying to control it. If she has enough strength to resist it. Always when she becomes distant or when I see that strange look in her eyes I fear that it has begun. But we are still together and I know that I shall watch over her. I have never loved anyone so much, but I remain on my guard. When we lay down together at night, for safety's sake and without her seeing, I always place a dagger under the pillow.

We side with Fabius:
The world is not so simple and black and white as it may sometimes seem. And thus I placed my trust in Fabius. If he was genuinely able to tame the demon, he could do a great deal of good. He had not lied. The demon entered his body and - nothing happened. Fabius simply stood and smiled. The transfer had succeeded and the demon was truly under control. I could not believe my eyes. Then we parted. He returned to Rome and I wandered England, trying to forget. To find peace for my soul. Perhaps half a year later a new Pope was chosen in Rome. The Pope in Avignon passed away in an unfortunate accident. There then followed more crusades, this time however all throughout the known world. They brutally annihilated anyone who refused to accept the radical changes which were taking place in the church. The world had begun to be a very confined place.

fD9dgB3.jpg


We didn't heal Limsey:
The mayor was dead. Death came even to landlord Limsey at the hands of the Demon's henchman. With both gone there was nobody who had sufficient authority to bring the town back to affluence and prosperity. The streets were overgrown with grass. Wild animals roamed freely around town. Not long ago I heard that only a strange recluse remains there, an oddball with his own forge, who makes shapes from hot iron only for fun.

E81Jw3q.jpg


We didn't make the memory erasing potion for Emma:
Emma never recovered from the loss of Simon. For some time she wandered around town half mad, until she reached the monastery where the sisters of the order provided asylum. However, she paid a heavy price for the long time she spent in the forest. She died less than three months later and never awoke from her disturbed dreams.

We did make a potion, but didn't save Limsey:
Thanks to my help, Emma recovered and perhaps even forgot. She left the desolate town and settled in London, where I later met her. She looked as happy and carefree as before and had even found a new kind lady to wait on.

nSDxiX6.jpg


We didn't help the innkeeper:
The innkeeper Mollins was one of the less fortunate. Death caught up with him at the bar of the inn. But his name has now been erased by time, and the pub, even if under another name and with another owner, is still the only place for miles where beer is served.

We5ZEMW.jpg


This one is always the same.

Ma652qR.jpg


We side with Fabius (note that we don't get this when we keep Helen alive):
And so life in the town, or rather village, goes on. People are again happy and the harvest is abundant. They do not suspect that a new shadow is drawing towards them. A shadow which shall perhaps swallow us all.

So there you have it. I must say that I liked this game's atmosphere quite a lot, especially at the beginning. A damn shame that they just had to turn it into a BSB save-the-world story.

Well, in any case, this LP is now officially over!

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ALchymist

Educated
Patron
Joined
Oct 31, 2013
Messages
88
Codex 2013 Codex USB, 2014
Very nice. Like the shades of grey in the endings. Also, it was released two years before The Witcher. :hmmm:
 

Baron Dupek

Arcane
Joined
Jul 23, 2013
Messages
1,870,765
Salute indeed. Another good codexers lost.:salute:
 

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